Chapter 16 #2
“See? I told you.” I take a big bite of my own meal, chew, and swallow. “I was right.”
She rolls her eyes, going in for another mouthful.
We finish off our dinner, then toss our trash into a can.
It’s late. We’ve been out and about all day, soaking up as much November as we can before the rain inevitably settles in and drenches us all.
After the art museum, we walked around Pike Place Market, then hopped across the street to the aquarium.
Introducing her to Seattle dogs was my last stop, and I can tell they’ll be hers too.
Now that she’s got some food in her, she’s ready for bed.
Her eyes are getting heavy, and her strides are getting shorter.
“Come on.” I flick my chin in the general direction of where we parked my car hours ago. The fee is going to be astronomical, but it’s worth it for her. “Let’s go home.”
“Home.” She smiles softly. “I like the sound of that.”
I don’t ask if she likes it because it implies that it’s our home, or if she’s just desperate for sleep at this point. We walk through the streets, our hands brushing every few steps. A simple graze of our hands, that’s all it is, but it’s enough to make my body start to tingle with want.
“Speaking of home…” she asks once we hit the garage. “Anything new on my bed?”
I try to school my features not to show my panic.
The truth is that her bed technically has already arrived.
It may or may not be me who keeps delaying things with the delivery, and it’s solely because I like sharing a bed with her.
I’m getting some of the best nights of sleep with her lying next to me, and I’m in no hurry to change that anytime soon.
It’s completely selfish, but I’ve found that I am when it comes to her.
“What? Are you eager to stop sharing a bed with me?” I ask, trying to distract her so she doesn’t start asking too many questions.
“What?” She looks horrified. “No! I was just wondering when it’ll get here so I can know when I need to pay you back for it.”
I stop, and Nessa knocks right into me.
“What the hell, Gavin? Walk much?”
“You can’t be serious.”
“About your inability to walk? Oh, I am very serious.” She glares up at me, her arms now crossed over her chest, pushing her tits up and distracting me for just a moment.
I shake it away. “No, about you paying me back. Because you’re not.”
“Uh, yes, I am. You’re not really buying me a bed.”
“Yes, I am.” I grab her hand and pull her toward the car.
She drags her feet against the ground in an attempt to pull me to a stop, but it’s futile. I’m far too big for her to be able to affect my movement. “Gavin, stop. I’m being serious.”
“I am too,” I say over my shoulder, still charging forward.
“You cannot buy me a bed! I mean, the idea of it is really cute and all, but the execution? There are implications.”
“What?” I scoff. “If those implications are that I like taking care of you, then whatever.”
“Yeah, but I’m not yours to take care of.”
This time, I do stop, and once again, she crashes into me.
“Stop doing that,” she grouses, righting herself. She pushes her hair out of her face and scowls up at me petulantly, that bratty side of hers I enjoy a bit too much coming out. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what? Like I’m pissed?”
“Well, yeah. I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.” She tips her chin up, and I wonder if it’s me she’s trying to convince or herself.
I take a step forward, then another. We’re toe to toe, so close Nessa has to lean her head back to look up at me.
“If I recall correctly, Nessa ”—her eyes spark at the way I say her name—“I said you belong to me back in New York. And I meant it. Now, get in the goddamn car before I throw you over my shoulder and put you in there myself.”
Her mouth opens, but she doesn’t move. So, I do as I promised—I lift her into my arms and drop her over my shoulder.
“Gavin whatever-the-hell-your-middle-name-is Whitlocke! Put me down— now !”
“It’s Barry.”
“Barry?!” she says incredulously.
“And Douglas.”
“Oh my god, you’re kidding me.”
“Nope.” I smack her ass, and she inhales sharply. “Now, hush.”
To my surprise, she does, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s because she liked that slap a little too much. Knowing her, probably. When we finally reach the car, I set her on her feet and open the door for her.
“After you,” I say, bending at the waist.
She huffs but climbs inside. I chuckle as I shut the door. I race around the front, slide in next to her, and pull out of the garage.
“You’re kind of annoying, you know that?” she says once we hit the road.
“I can be, but I’m not annoying because of this. I just…I want to take care of you, Nessa. You deserve it. Let yourself enjoy it, okay?”
Her features soften at my words, and I hope she knows it’s not some line I’m trying to feed her.
I mean it. She does deserve it, and not just because of what happened with her douchebag ex-husband.
She deserves it because she’s an incredible woman.
She’s smart, funny when she wants to be, kind even when she doesn’t think she is, and worthy of someone treating her right.
“Okay,” she agrees quietly.
“Good,” I say with a grin, but there’s really nothing to smile about.
No, there’s just tension, and a lot of it.
It’s nearly suffocating as I navigate my AMG through the Seattle streets.
It’s not a bad kind, though. If anything, it’s the opposite, and it grows the closer we get to the penthouse.
By the time I pull into my parking spot, it’s so damn thick I can barely breathe.
Or maybe that’s just how badly I want her.
My head is all foggy, and I can’t tell the difference.
I nod to security as we slip into the elevator. Nessa settles beside me, my hand at the small of her back. I feel her lean into the touch as the doors begin to close. They’re just about touching when a very familiar tattooed arm appears between them.
Keller gives me his version of a grin—which isn’t one at all—as he looks at Nessa, then me. In that instant, I know he knows we’re sleeping together. Maybe it’s our body language that gives us away, or maybe he can feel the tension too, but he knows.
“Well, well. What do we have here?” he says as he steps into the car.
I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve actually run into Keller in the years we’ve lived in the same building. Why the hell does tonight have to be one of those times? With Nessa right here? I tug her a step closer, and he lets out a half-laugh, not missing it.
“How’s it going, roomies?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Don’t be a dick, man.”
“Me? A dick? Never. That’s not my style.”
We both know it is.
“Keller…”
“What? A guy can’t just say hello to his neighbors?” he says innocently, though he’s anything but. “Beautiful night out, huh?”
I don’t answer him, and neither does Nessa. He’s being such a shithead, and if the twitch of his lips is telling at all, he knows it. When we reach his floor—a few below mine—he gives us one last look before shaking his head.
“You two have a nice night now.”
I swear I hear him laugh before the doors close. Nessa relaxes, and I hate that she was even on edge to begin with.
“He won’t say anything,” I promise, and she nods.
The elevator doors open on my floor, and we hurry out. When we make it into the penthouse, I’m not sure who grabs for whom first, but suddenly we’re nothing but mouths and hands and sighs and moans. Running into Keller should have quelled this urge. It really fucking should have, but it didn’t.
I’m not sure anything ever will.