Sitting up on the couch, I scrub my palm down my face, then slide my hand over my head. I’m still not sure how I feel about my hair. I’ve always had long hair, but I wanted a change. And now, if I want it back, I’m going to have to wait for a few months. Which means I gotta deal with no fucking hair for months.
“You’re awake,” Lainey’s voice calls out.
Lifting my gaze, my eyes find hers, and I smirk. “Something like that. You want me to make some coffee?”
“That would be great,” she murmurs. “Do you need to use the shower?”
“Go ahead and shower first. I’ll make your coffee.”
Our gazes stay connected for a few more moments, then she shakes her head a couple of times and takes a step backward before she moves toward her bathroom. I watch her, unsure of what the future holds, but I can’t deny that in the present, I want to be in that shower with her.
I want to watch the water gently caress her skin. I want to watch the soap glide down every inch of her. I want to touch her wet body, then I want to lick the water off her clean skin. I wanta hell of a lot for a man who said he didn’t want anything to do with her.
I’m lying not only to myself, but to her, too. And as the minutes tick by, as the sound of the water in the bathroom reminds me of the fact that she’s indeed naked and wet right now, I wonder how much longer I can keep up the lie.
My guess is I have about twenty-four hours left before my control doesn’t just snap… it fucking shatters.
LAINEY
Once I’m dressed and my bed is made, because I find it essential to make my bed every day, I head out to the living room. Basically, I’ve dillydallied long enough, and it’s time to face the day. Not only is it time to face the man in my living room, but it’s also time to get to the bakery. I have a full day of pastries to get working on before the shop even opens.
But the moment I step into the living room, I see him in the kitchen, leaning a hip against the counter, a mug in his hand, shirtless.
Shirt. Less.
He’s beautiful. Covered in tattoos and muscles. Hair or no hair, it doesn’t matter, because nothing could detract from the absolute gorgeousness of Viking. And at the sight of him, after the tingly belly swoop of desire slides through me, I’m filled with a rush of sadness that consumes every part of my being.
Sad for myself. Sad for him. Sad for what could have been and what will never be. Sad because I’m pretty sure my mind is made up, and even if it means my brother is angry, even if it means I lose the safety I’ve always felt with the Vicious Reapers, I know that in the end, it will be me protecting the ones I love.
“You good?” Viking asks.
The sound of his voice when I’m deep in thought causes my spine to straighten. My eyes lift to meet his, and I force a smile to curve up on my lips. “I’m good,” I lie. “But I need to leave in about twenty minutes, so if you want a shower, now is a good time.”
He watches me for a long moment in silence, his gaze searching mine the way it always does. And then, as if he sees whatever he needs to see, he pushes off the counter, sets his mug down, and jerks his chin toward me.
“Don’t go anywhere, don’t open the door, don’t even fucking breathe until I’m out of the shower.”
What I want to do is roll my eyes to the ceiling, because he acts like I’m going to open the door the second he walks away and invite a kidnapper inside. Which, at this point, with the way I’m leaning, I don’t think I would turn down the situation if it arose. But I’ll wait until I talk to the girls and get their opinions on it tonight.
Not surprisingly, it doesn’t take Viking more than ten minutes to shower and dress. He jerks his chin in my direction, then grins. “Ready?” he asks.
It’s almost four in the morning. We open at seven. I’ve been ready. “I still can’t believe you get up this early every single day,” he mutters.
“It’s all part of the job,” I state. “I don’t love the early mornings, but I love every other part of it, so it’s worth it in the end.”
He presses his lips together, then releases them, and I can tell he’s got something on his mind he wants to say to me. Something that is going to impact me, or at least he thinks it is. So he clears his throat before he speaks.
“You know, if you make a deal with them, this goes away,” he says as he lifts his hand, extending his index finger and swirling it around my living room.
“My living room?” I ask.
His lips twitch into a smirk, and he shakes his head once before his expression turns serious. So dead serious that I know he’s ready to lay some heavy shit on me. I should probably be concerned, but I’m not. I’m sure whatever it is he’s going to say, I’ve already figured it out.
“Your life here is over. No family, no friends, and sure as shit no bakery.”
I’m not shocked by his words, although he’s trying to scare me; I know he is. Tilting my head to the side, I watch him for a moment without saying anything. I don’t know what he thinks I’m going to say or do.
Maybe he thinks I’m weak. And he’s probably right. To a degree, I am just that—weak. But I’m also not. My brother has always had my back. He’s always protected me, but maybe it’s time I show him and everyone else that I can protect myself.