Chapter 5

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Glen's friend stopped the truck in front of a two-story house. Heidi opened the door and feeling like she needed to say something, she looked at the driver and mumbled, "Thank you."

"You're welcome." The older man hung his wrist over the steering wheel. "Glen will take good care of you."

She shivered. The testament was one she'd heard promised before and refused to take advantage of. Shutting the door, she hurried over to Glen in the driveway. Biting her lip while he removed the cord holding her backpack onto the bike, she planned to split the second she had her hands on her belongings.

She rubbed her arms, wishing she would've picked a different alley to sleep in. All she wanted to do was pick somewhere close to where she had to work on Monday and within walking distance of the river, where she could discreetly bathe.

Glen hefted the pack over his shoulder and walked to the house. She hurried after him. If he looked inside her backpack, he'd know more about her than she wanted him to. Not her true identity. She had nothing on her about her previous life.

He unlocked the door and pushed it open. "Go on in."

She looked behind her. There was nobody outside at such a late hour to help her if she screamed. Unable to do anything more unless she was willing to lose everything she owned, she walked inside his house.

Black leather furniture lined the walls of the main room, and a pair of black biker boots were kicked off in the middle of the floor, along with a dirty shirt, and two bunched socks. She pivoted and almost smashed into Glen.

She held out her hand. "Can I have my bag now?"

He shut the door and walked around her, ignoring her question. "I have a spare room."

She scuttled around him and stopped, keeping him from walking deeper into the house. "I can't stay..." She peered at the boots, the dartboard on the wall, the empty beer bottle on the end table and lowered her voice. "Here with you."

"Already said you could." He grabbed her upper arms, moved her to the side, and walked up the stairs with her backpack leaving her at the bottom.

Tired of the game of leap frog they were playing with each other, she hurried up the stairs and found a door on the left side of the hallway with the light on.

"The bed already has clean sheets." Glen tossed her backpack to the foot of the bed. "There's a bathroom at the end of the hall. I don't work tomorrow. Do you need me to wake you up for work?"

The king size bed drew her interest. She yawned. Sleeping on the pavement was as familiar to her as an old friend. The bed was a stranger.

She looked at Glen. Drawn to the bed like she was to Glen. Big. Scary. Tempting.

"You lied," she blurted.

He cocked his brow. "I don't believe I have."

"You said you had a son. You bought a child's bike from me." It was the only thing she could latch on to, to remind her that she had no idea about the man standing in front of her. "There's no sign of a boy living in this house."

"It was an excuse to talk to you." His mouth softened. "No kids. No wife. No girlfriend at the moment."

"You bought a hundred and fifty-dollar bike to ask me personal questions?"

"Small price to pay," he said.

She couldn't figure him out. He seemed straight forward, matter of fact, and not a man who wasted time. Yet, he was frivolous. She couldn't wrap her brain around him. Too good to be true? Dangerous? Some weird non-stereotypical pimp trying to butter her up?

"I don't work tomorrow, but I need to be up early to go to the laundromat. I'll let myself out without waking you." She glanced at the bed again, hating the fact that she was indebted to him now. "Thank you...for letting me sleep here."

"Get some shuteye." Glen walked to the hallway. "My room is on the right side, right before the bathroom door, if you need anything."

She waited until she couldn't hear his bootsteps on the floor and approached the bed. Poking the plush comforter with her finger, she quickly jerked her hand away, ashamed to have touched it before washing.

Before she talked herself out of sleeping in a bed fit for a rich lady, she grabbed her backpack and tiptoed down the hallway. In front of Glen's bedroom, she paused. He stood facing away from her and pulled his shirt off by the back of the neck. She gawked, and a hot puff of air escaped her mouth.

Broad shoulders flexed as he threw his shirt toward the other side of the room. She stopped breathing as he turned. Unable to move, she dropped her gaze to his stomach. Rock hard and tan, she could only watch the way his six-pack moved in waves and grew closer. She snapped her chin up and stared at Glen's face. Uh oh.

"Let's get something straight. I don't know what the fuck is going on with you. But, if you try to lift one thing off me, I'll have no problems hunting you down." He inhaled through his nose. "Tomorrow, I'm going to straighten your shit out and find out what you were doing trying to sleep in an alley."

With that, he turned around and dropped his jeans, leaving his boxers on. She stood exactly where he left her mesmerized over his tight ass until he flipped off the light and she could no longer see him.

In the dark, Glen said, "Don't even think of leaving before I'm up."

She stared in the direction of his bed. "I'll leave when I want to leave."

The lamp beside the bed came on. Glen sat up in bed, the blanket covered him to his hips. "Listen, Blue. I'm dead on my feet. I need sleep. There's a lock on the bedroom door if you want to use it. You'll be safe. I don't feel like dealing with you anymore tonight. If you give a damn about whether I'm in a better mood in the morning, you'll go take your shower and then go to sleep."

She moistened her lips. After what seemed like a lifetime of sleeping on the ground or on the floor, a real bed sounded better than the worry over her safety around Glen. She nodded. "Okay. One night."

"That's all I need, and then I'll straighten this shit out in the morning," he said.

She hurried into the bathroom, away from where his astute eyes could read more into the situation than she wanted him to know. Dropping her pack, she locked the door, undressed, and stepped into the walk-in shower before the water had fully warmed to a comfortable level.

In her rush, she forgot to unpack her sample bottles of soap and shampoo one of the shelters had handed out to the homeless. She eyed the large, family-sized containers on the shower rack. Glen had invited her to stay. He probably wouldn't care if she used his liquid soap and shampoo.

Five minutes later, she stood in the bathroom, running her hands down her wet body to dry herself. She'd leave Glen's house in the morning untouched—except for his bed. She frantically rubbed her crew cut, getting rid of the drips and then found her last clean pair of panties, jeans, and a sweatshirt. She'd be too warm in Glen's house, being summertime, but she had nothing else clean to wear.

She left the bathroom. This time, she scurried down the hall silently without looking into Glen's room. In the three seconds it took her to seek shelter into the spare bedroom where she was invited to stay, she shook from exhaustion and from the chill being away from the warm water.

She locked the door, turned on the lamp by the bed, and turned off the ceiling light.

Not trusting Glen to unlock the door and pilfer through her pack while she slept, she put the backpack on the bed next to the wall, her shoes on the floor close to her, and crawled under the covers. She closed her eyes, taking comfort from the light hitting her eyelids. Sleeping in the daylight always made her feel better. She hated the darkness.

She couldn't stop the moan of pleasure escaping her throat. The mattress like cloud cushioned her tired body. She slipped her hand into her pack and held onto the yarned material. In the house, a soft snore penetrated the closed door. That awareness of Glen staying in his room, leaving her to sleep on her own, brought her more comfort than she was used to, and her mind kept drifting until her thoughts left her completely and she slept.