CHAPTER FIVE
I swear I only planned to stay with Bree until I was sure she wouldn’t have any more nightmares. Bad plan. I’d ended up falling asleep myself.
Pale sunlight filters through the curtains, reminding me that I’m in my best friend’s room. In his bed. With his sister. Not quite sure how I’d explain this if he came home right now.
Nor would I be able to explain the morning wood nestled against Bree’s ass. While my brain knows she’s not ready for a relationship, my body’s clearly decided to disregard the memo. I’ve wanted to wake up this way for years. Thought it would never happen. But now that it has, it’s the wrong fucking time to do anything about it.
I push her hair off her cheek and watch her sleep for a few minutes. Her warm breath fanning over my arm and the slight rise and fall of her chest doesn’t make the situation in my shorts any less critical.
Carefully, I untangle myself from Bree without waking her and head for the bathroom. I need one long, cold shower.
Morning chill wakes me. Or maybe it’s the absence of Liam’s solid, warm body behind mine. Each time I woke up during the night, his presence assured me.
I hate myself a little for needing that reassurance.
The shower starts up both informing me of Liam’s location and notifying my bladder that I need to pee.
Dammit.
Squirming doesn’t make the feeling go away.
Reluctantly I toss the covers back and stand.
Tapping on the door gets me nothing, so I crack it open. “Liam?”
“Shit!” There’s a loud rattling and I assume I startled him and he bumped into the shower door.
“Sorry.”
“I thought you were asleep.”
“I need to use the bathroom.”
He doesn’t answer right away and I wish I could see him. Between the steam and the frosted shower door, he’s nothing more than a flesh-toned blur to me. “Go ahead.”
I groan and cross my legs, trying to decide if I can wait. “Fuck it,” I mutter before hurrying over and yanking my shorts down. “Don’t look.”
“I’m not looking.”
“Don’t listen either.”
He chuckles. “What?” A few seconds later he adds, “Are you still there?”
“Don’t talk to me. Now I can’t go.”
His rumbling laughter fills the room and I grit my teeth in frustration and humiliation. “You’re the one invading my shower,” he says. As if I’m not aware.
“Yeah, well tell my brother while he was busy doing all these upgrades he should’ve added a second bathroom.”
He doesn’t have a response for that except more laughter. I’m finally able to finish up and run out of the bathroom completely mortified.
Feeling like an absolute creep, I can’t even take a normal breath until I hear the bathroom door click shut.
Can’t a guy discreetly jerk-off in peace?
Caught dick-in-hand, I was almost there. So close. Painfully aware I was using the lingering feeling of Bree snuggled up against my body to beat off to. Then she blew in here using sassy comments to cover her embarrassment, which only made me want her more. Now I’m stuck. My poor dick’s so confused. I mean, the woman we want was just in here. Now she’s not.
Fuck if I didn’t come recklessly close to inviting Bree into the shower.
My body’s on edge, in case something interrupts the slow build again. It takes more than the length of a normal shower to finish. And when I finally do, I don’t feel any less wound up.
When I finally join her in the kitchen, she won’t meet my eyes. Christ, did she hear me and figure out what I was up to in there?
“Everything okay?” I ask in a neutral tone.
“Sure, I pee in front of my friends all the time.”
Oh, that. I can’t help laughing. Her eyes blaze with indignation. “It’s not funny,” she insists.
“I’m pretty sure you’ve done it before. When we were camping or something.”
“That’s different.”
“I’m sorry. Next time I’ll wake you up and ask if you need to use the facilities before I take a shower.”
The corners of her mouth twitch and she ducks her head to hide her laughter.
I can’t talk her into eating more than a bowl of cereal for breakfast, but at least it’s something.
“What are your plans today?” I ask.
She groans. “I have to go down to Empire and give another statement.”
“Okay. I’ll go with you.”
Her eyes widen and she shakes her head. “No, Liam. I can’t—”
“Can’t what?”
“Come on, I know it’s the Empire police not the Sheriff’s department, but don’t you guys all know each other?”
Not getting her point, I just lift my shoulders. “I know a few guys down there.” Spent about an hour conversing with the investigator assigned to her case yesterday too. But that’s something I won’t share with her right now.
“I’m sure cops gossip.”
I snort because, yes that’s true. “Still don’t understand your point.”
She blows out a frustrated breath. “You don’t want guys you work with knowing you know someone like me.”
Blood rushes through my ears and I sit up, unsure I heard her correctly. “Wait, what?”
“I don’t want to embarrass you.”
“Embarrass me?” I reach over and slide my hand over hers. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“What if people see you with me?” She touches her cheek. “And someone thinks you did this?”
All I want to do is wrap my arms around her. Bree’s always been sensitive. And while I’m glad her piece-of-shit boyfriend didn’t destroy her sweetness, right now, it’s killing me.
“I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks, Bree. I’m not embarrassed to be seen with you or have anyone know you’re my friend, and I’m sure as fuck not letting you go down there by yourself.”
She blinks a few times. “Wow, I hope you don’t kiss your mother with that mouth.”
Even though she’s teasing me, the relief in her eyes makes me think I might have gotten through to her. “Go on. Get ready. Truck’s pulling out of here in twenty minutes.”
“Twenty minutes? I need more time than that. And we can take my car. I’ll drive.”
I almost open my mouth and remind her of our little traffic stop yesterday. Thankfully, I catch myself before the words come out. “I don’t think I can fit in your car, Bree. My knees will be under my chin.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t think about…I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.” I come dangerously close to patting her ass. Jesus, this is bad. “Go get ready,” I urge, patting her back instead.
She wasn’t kidding about needing time to get ready. Maybe forty-five minutes later she emerges from the bathroom and I freeze. My gaze skims over her bare shoulders and down to her long legs then back up, taking in every inch of the light greenish-blue dress that makes her blue eyes seem even brighter. It’s a bit sweet and a bit sexy, just like Bree. “Is that what you’re wearing?”
Too busy staring at the fitted top and the gentle way the dress hugs her curves before flaring at the hips—I miss the change in her demeanor. “Excuse me?”
When I meet her eyes, they’re snapping fire. “Liam,” she says, clearly forcing some patience into her voice. “I spent four years with a guy who was constantly telling me what I could and couldn’t wear—”
“Shit, Bree. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. You look beautiful. That’s a pretty color on you.” Now I feel like an ass and figure I better attempt to explain myself. I lift my hands in the air and curl them into fists, thinking about what she said about her ex. “I know how some of the guys act down there. I don’t want to get in any fights if someone says something inappropriate to you.”
Her forehead wrinkles. “Why would you get into a fight over me?” she asks. This isn’t a flirtatious game she’s playing, she genuinely doesn’t get it.
“I—” Admitting that I don’t want any of the horny fucking cops I know eye-fondling her or asking for her phone number feels like revealing too much. “You’re like my little sister, Bree. Can’t have guys whistling at you and stuff.”
Lie, lie, lie. I don’t have a brotherly feeling in my body toward Bree at the moment.