9. Rex
NINE
REX
We re-entered the house and found that Blair and Donny had disappeared into their room. I watched Abigail let out a sigh of relief as we stepped into the empty kitchen, then helped her tuck the leftovers into the refrigerator.
When we stepped back into the hallway, we both paused. Rhythmic squeaking sounded faintly from one of the rooms.
“Is that…?” Abigail frowned, creeping forward toward the guest room door where I’d dropped Donny’s and Blair’s things.
I grimaced as a familiar moan floated through the air. “Yep,” I said.
Abigail’s face was horrified, and she tiptoed past the door to shoot up the stairs. I wasn’t too far behind, trying not to think about the fact that my brother and Blair were doing the deed in the next room…and that Abigail and I would be sharing a room all night long.
While I grabbed a toothbrush from my bag, Abigail disappeared down the hall and came back a few minutes later with pillows and blankets she unceremoniously dumped in the middle of her bedroom floor.
She looked at the brush in my hand.. “Um, remember when I told Gabe that my bathroom sink was clogged?”
“Yeah…”
“That wasn’t actually a lie. I’ve been using the bath faucet.”
I arched a brow. “Aren’t you a real estate professional?”
“Does that sound like ‘plumber’ to you?” she sassed, fluffing the pillows on her bed as she shot me a glare over her shoulder.
Ignoring the way her spine curved down to a shapely ass, I huffed and went to do my thing in the bathroom. When I returned, there was a nest of blankets on the floor for me, and Abigail had let the cat out of the room.
While she disappeared to do whatever it was women did in the bathroom before bed, I got into my sleep pants, took off my shirt, and lay down. Not the most uncomfortable place I’d ever rested my head, but it wasn’t a five-star hotel, either. I caught a whiff of something. Ugh. What was that?
Before I could inspect further, Abigail came back into the bedroom. She’d changed out of the loose jeans and tight tee combo she’d had on before. Now she wore tiny silk shorts trimmed in pink lace and a matching silk camisole. I just about choked.
“What?” Abigail demanded, planting her hands on her hips, which made the silk camisole pull tight against her breasts.
I waved a hand in her direction. “Is that what you wear to bed all the time?”
Abigail glanced down at herself. “What, pajamas?”
“Those aren’t pajamas, Abigail.”
She reared back, glaring at me. “Excuse me?”
“That is lingerie.”
“This is a tank top and shorts! And you’re not even wearing a shirt!” She waved a hand at my chest, cheeks turning faintly pink.
“Sleeping without a shirt is completely normal.” I paused. “For a guy.”
“Oh, and a matching pajama set isn’t?”
“It’s shiny fabric and has lace trim.”
“Does lace trim offend you?”
“It does now!”
Abigail winced, and I realized what I’d said. She probably thought I meant that she looked bad. But what I meant was, how was I supposed to keep my thoughts pure about my best friend’s little sister when she looked like that ?
Turning her nose up in a very Abigail fashion, she responded, “Well, you can look away if my sleepwear is so repulsive to you. Goodnight, Rex.” She climbed into bed, punching her pillow aggressively before slamming her head onto it.
Guilt squirmed through me…and I realized that Abigail was sensitive . It hit me like a punch in the gut. She acted tough, and she always had a quick word to let someone know when they’d misstepped, but she used that to defend against the fact that her feelings were easily wounded.
I thought about her night in jail and her desire to keep it from Gabe. Did it hurt her feelings when Gabe ragged on her? Did it hurt her feelings when I ragged on her?
“I didn’t mean that your PJs are repulsive,” I told the back of her head. When she didn’t respond, I said, “They look good.”
That earned me a snort .
From the floor below us, the squeaking started up again. Blair’s throaty moans floated through the floorboards.
I lay back on my pillow and stared at the ceiling. Donny’s low murmur reached my ears, and I closed my eyes. Wonderful. Now I had to hear the evidence of my brother’s premarital bliss from my place of honor on the floor at the foot of Abigail’s bed.
The woman in question sat up suddenly and glared at the floor. “Do you think they’re doing that on purpose?”
“You mean having sex? I hope so. Not sure how it can happen accidentally.”
Her scowl was magnificent, and it made the corners of my lips tug. At least she was looking at me again.
Blair let out a scream that ended in a protracted squeal.
“Was she that vocal when you were dating her?”
I huffed. “I don’t really remember.”
Abigail arched a brow at me. “I don’t believe you.”
I shrugged. “You don’t have to.”
She flopped back down onto her pillows, and I shifted to my side. Nope. That made the floor dig into my hip and shoulder. I turned onto my back again, then tried the other side.
The only sounds in the bedroom were the shouts coming from below (seriously, how long were they going to do that?), the rustle of my bedding, and the soft whisper of Abigail’s breath. I tried very, very hard not to think about those tiny shorts and those long, long legs hiding under her covers.
Then I got a whiff of that stench again and sniffed audibly. Wait a second. I knew that smell. “Uh, Abigail.”
“Yeah?”
“I think Winston peed on my blanket,” I said, thinking she’d be horrified, but she started to snicker, then muffled her giggles with her piss-free blanket. “Are you laughing?”
“I’m sorry. I know it’s not funny, but…it kind of is. He really doesn’t like you.”
I slapped my hand over my face and let out a little laugh. If it wasn’t happening to me, I’d think it was pretty hilarious too. But it was. “Got another blanket?”
“Nope,” she said and kept giggling. Was this what girls’ sleepovers were like?
“I guess this is what I get for bringing Blair and Donny here,” I grumbled.
“Come on. I’m not that cruel. Just come up here,” Abigail said, sitting up again to scoot to the far side of her small bed.
I raised an eyebrow. “Is that an invitation?”
“Sure, unless my PJs offend you so much that you’d forgo a full night’s sleep, surrounded by cat pee, just to stay away from them?”
She said it as a joke, but I heard the truth in her words. I’d hurt her feelings earlier, and staying away from her would hurt her more. But the problem was her PJs didn’t offend me. They very much made my palms itch to touch, so I could see if the silky fabric was as soft as her skin appeared to be.
Part of the reason I was having trouble getting comfy was that the whole room (apart from the blanket Winston had doused) smelled like her, and she was wearing the tiniest, sexiest pajamas known to man, and I couldn’t quite remember all the reasons why I wasn’t supposed to touch her.
I climbed into bed beside her, wishing she’d lie back on her pillows and let me kiss her lips until they were pink and swollen. Instead, I kept my hands to myself .
“Sorry about Winston. Maybe he’ll warm up to you,” she said.
“It’s okay. Sorry about Donny and Blair. I don’t think you’ll warm up to them.”
She huffed a laugh, then turned her back to me. I pushed away a strand of hair that tickled the side of my face, and then we fell asleep to the sounds of my brother and his fiancée celebrating their upcoming marriage late into the night.
Maybe we should’ve put Winston in their room.