7. KAYLA
7
I slept like a baby. His guest room bed is comfortable, like a cushion of soft feathers, and the silky sheets made me feel like I was in heaven. After two weeks of barely getting any sleep, this was a welcoming change.
I liked staying with Jensen and Rae, but I also felt out of place, making it hard for me to really relax. The tension that was still sitting inside of me made me broody at night, resulting in a greater lack of sleep than I anticipated. But when my head hit the pillow last night, I fell asleep like a log, and I woke up feeling like a different person before my alarm went off.
I’m sitting on the kitchen island with a bowl of cereal in front of me. While one hand is holding the spoon, the other scrolls through the ’Gram on my phone.
I’m humming the latest Pink song, when footsteps come from Bodi’s hallway and I look up.
Holy shit.
My breath startles when my eyes collide with his tanned chest. Gray sweatpants sit low on his hips, showing the V. You know the V? The only V that will make you drop from your chair and dislocate your jaw when it falls to the floor.
His hands are rubbing a towel through his wet hair as he saunters into the living room while I shift on my stool to ignore the tension surging through my core.
Finally, his eyes land on mine like a laser and he comes to an abrupt halt, shock washing his face, right in time for me to close my mouth to prevent him from noticing the gawking.
“What are you doing?” he spits, as if I’m killing his cat or something.
“What?” I screech, glancing around the kitchen to find whatever he’s talking about.
“You can’t wear that.”
I can’t…what?
Confused, my chin dips at my tank top and shorts. The lower half of my legs are shown beside the kitchen island and when I look up, I notice his eyes trained on them before they move back to my face. Or chest. I don’t know.
My eyes roll to the back of my head. “I’m not wearing this to work, Bodi. Geez. Clearly, you don’t think highly of me, but you could give me a bit more credit than that.”
Unbothered, I go back to my breakfast, scrolling through my phone.
“That’s not what I mean.”
Giving him a bored look, I bring my attention back to his eyes while ignoring the six-pack on his upper body that is screaming to be touched by my twitching fingers.
“I mean, you can’t wear that. Ever ,” he growls.
I heard that line before, and I swore to never let anyone tell me what to wear ever again…but Bodi’s lust filled eyes have me considering obeying him or taunting him to rip it all off. It's bothering him that much.
“Are you serious?”
“Yes, Kayla. New rule: when you leave your bedroom, I want every inch of your body covered.” He strides forward until he reaches the other side of the kitchen island and holds my gaze with a big scowl. He looks furious, a little frustrated, and sexy as fuck.
“Even my face?” I tease. I can’t help myself.
He throws the towel on the countertop, then presses his palms into the marble while grinding his teeth. If he has superpowers, he’d probably break the stone with his grip.
“Either you make sure you’re dressed every single time you walk into this living room, or you are fired before you even begin your first day and I’m spreading you on my kitchen counter. Right now .”
Okay.
My lashes flutter in shock, the oxygen evaporating from my lungs, and my chest heaves while I actually weigh out my options. I know what I want to do. What I’m dying to do. I also know what I should do. What is the wisest choice? The two are not really aligned right now.
Unfortunately.
Too tempted to sway to the devil’s side, I lick my lips, a devious smile tugging at them.
“Get dressed, Kayla!” he shouts, making me wince.
“Okay, okay.” I throw my hands up, placating. “I’m going.”
I slide off the stool to get ready for work, gasping when I turn my back to him.
His eyes are burning through my back, making my insides feel like a freaking oven, my inner self screaming silently in excitement.
Having a man yelling at me brings back a flash of memories, but Bodi doesn’t seem to startle me like Trent did. He doesn’t give me that sense of dominating ownership. No, Bodi makes me feel like he wants to own me in a way that worships a woman, instead of diminishes them.
When I reach my bedroom door, I peek back to him again, our eyes locking once more. He hasn’t moved a muscle and just keeps staring with flaring nostrils and what I recognize as a horny look in his gaze.
I pull my lip between my teeth, then open the door, disappearing from his sight with a smug feeling.
I guess his no kissing rule will not be as easy as he wanted it to be.
***
Thirty minutes later, I walk into the living room wearing a cream sweater with some washed out jeans while holding up two pairs of sneakers.
“Yo, sneaker boy. Which ones?” It’s my peace offer, showing him I can be friends .
For the moment.
He looks up from his phone, looking mighty fine in an army green button down while holding a cup of coffee in his hand. His sleeves are rolled up, the button-down open, showing the black V-neck underneath that perfectly hugs his physique.
He moves his eyes up and down my body with that same craving, before he glances at my Nike Air Forces in one hand, then toward my high-top Reeboks in the other.
Without uttering a word, he points at the Reeboks, and I give him a grateful smile that seems to ignite a small spark of amusement in his green eyes.
I return to my room to bring back the Nikes, put on my Reeboks, then give myself one last glance in the mirror before I grab my bag and stroll back to the living room. He puts his coffee cup in the sink, then turns around with his hands pressed next to him on the counter.
“You want coffee?” he asks.
His annoyance from earlier has simmered down, and I’m greeted by a friendly face that warms my stomach.
“No, thanks.”
He cocks an eyebrow, looking at me like I’m an alien. “No coffee?”
“No coffee. Unless you want me to start talking as many words in a minute as Eminem raps? I didn’t think that was your jam, but if it is, fill me up, boss .”
A smile seems to want to crack through his straight face, but he holds it back.
“No coffee. Got it.” He finally gives me that smile that I remember from last year.
A smile that has my insides flying away, replaced by a million bugs buzzing in my tummy. But as quickly as it appears, as quickly it vanishes from his handsome face, it’s substituted by a serious look.
“Look, I’m sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”
I didn’t expect him to apologize for that, hardly familiar with the concept at this point except from my side, and it washes my shoulders with a lighthearted feeling.
“It’s okay.” I shrug.
“It’s not. But you gotta help me here, Kayla. We had fun last summer. I would be lying if I said I don’t think you’re attractive anymore. I do .”
Someone hook me up with some oxygen. I can’t breathe. Did he just admit he’s still attracted to me?
“But this is different from a hookup at a party. Let’s keep it professional,” he continues, pushing the giddy feeling he gave me far away.
There is that word again. Professional. I get why he’s hesitant.
Yeah, we had fun, but he doesn’t really know me. It still stings every time he brings up that word, though. As if he can’t possibly believe I’m able to keep this professional . I can. I just don’t see why we have to keep it professional when we’re not at work.
A little disappointed, I offer him a coy smile, then place my phone on the counter while I take a seat on the stool.
“I know last summer you met me as this fun college girl, always interested in a party, and I know the recent turn of events in my life doesn’t help with that image. But I’m not stupid, Bodi.”
“I never said you were,” he interrupts with a genuine look in his eyes that radiates a heat through my chest as I keep going.
“I know this could be the only shot I get on a career in the publishing world. I’m not going to screw this up. I’m not going to waste my chance on a boy.”
He crosses his arms in front of his chest, a frown pushing his brows together.
“A boy ?”
I nod, slightly amused by his discontent.
“I think we both know I’m all man.” His voice is low and deep, the vibration almost palpable.
“No. No. No.” I lift a reprimanding finger. “You can’t say shit like that and not expect me to respond. If you want this to be professional, it goes both ways, McKay. No flirting. No sentences with double meanings, and no staring at me like you’re about to eat me.”
He snorts, followed by a chuckle, keeping his gaze trained on mine.
“Okay.” He finally agrees, though reluctantly.
“Okay,” I parrot. A scowling smile pushes through before the buzzing of my phone catches my attention. My face falls, and instantly my shoulders tense as I stare at the screen.
Is he ever going to give up?
“Who’s that?” I bring my gaze up to Bodi, who’s examining me with narrowed eyes. Shit .
Hastily, I create a full smile, declining the call.
“No one,” I puff, before changing the subject. “So, do we need any more ground rules?”
“As long as you make sure you’re dressed around here, I think we’ll be good.”
“Hold up! That goes both ways!”
“What do you mean?”
“You walked out of that hallway like you were a fucking GQ model. If I need to be fully dressed around here, so do you.”
“What?” he screeches. “This is my house.”
“Well, you asked me to stay. It’s only fair since you’re expecting the same from me.”
“You invited yourself,” he counters, indignant.
“Details.”
His lips are pressed together until finally he lets out a deep sigh. He grabs his phone from the counter, then nudges his head to the door before he saunters toward it.
“Come on, smartass. Time for work.”
I amble behind him out the door, leaving our banter behind, but I can’t help wondering who will cave first in our set of torturing house rules.