Good Girl Gone Page 9
The elevator doors open and she leans in the corner. Then I hear her sniffle.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Fine.”
“Can I walk you home?” I’m going to, no matter what her answer is.
She snorts. “I’m not going home. Not while he’s there.” She blinks furiously, refusing to let the tears fall over her lashes.
“Then where are you going?”
“I’ll go to a hotel.”
“You could come home with me.” The words came unbidden to my lips. But I don’t want to take them back.
She leans up off the wall. “Really?” Finally, a tear falls from her lashes and she brushes it away with the back of her hand.
I nod. “Sure.”
“Okay.”
I take a deep breath and wonder what the fuck I’ve just gotten myself into.
***
“So, were you thinking you’re going to get lucky?” she blurts out as we enter my apartment.
I throw my keys onto the counter with a loud clatter. “I’m feeling pretty lucky already,” I tell her.
I get myself a beer from the fridge and hold it out in silent question. She scrunches up her nose and makes a noise, and then she reaches around me and pulls out a bottle of water.
“Make yourself at home,” I say.
She motions from me to her and back. “We should probably discuss your expectations.”
“I expect that I’m going to go to bed. And I expect you are too.”
“And?” She arches her delicate brow at me.
“And you snore, but I’ll deal with it.”
“I do not snore!”
I grin and take a large swig of my beer. “Okay.”
She growls at me and stomps her foot.
“You’ll need something to sleep in.”
“You mean like a bed?”
I laugh. “I mean like clothes.” I nod toward my room. “Go look in my top drawer. There are some new things in there. Take what you want.” Give them back to me smelling like cotton candy and I’ll sleep with my face in them after you’re gone.
She goes into my bedroom and I hear her rumbling around. “Oh, fuck,” I whisper to myself when I remember what else is in my top drawer. I roll into my room and find her laughing as she stares down into the drawer.
“That’s interesting,” she says. She tilts her head so she can look at it. Her cheeks get rosy, but she doesn’t slam the drawer shut.
“A gift from Sam and Pete.”
Her brow lifts. “Seriously? They didn’t get me any porn. I feel left out.”
“Single guy. I think they felt sorry for me.”
“You haven’t even broken the seal.”
“Haven’t had time to watch it.” Not that I would anyway. Hell, I didn’t even know my dick worked until Star crawled into my lap.
She’s still staring down at it.
“You’re not a fan of porn, I take it.”
She shrugs. “Never been turned on by a dick slamming into a pussy, no.”
I choke on my beer. “What?”
“Porn is kind of male-centric.”
“Oh.” I thought for a moment she was telling me she wasn’t into dicks. “Not all of it.”
She grins at me. “Watch a lot of porn, do you?”
I choose not to answer.
She pulls a T-shirt and a pair of brand new boxers from my drawer and then sits on the edge of my bed. She bends over and unbuckles those ridiculous high heels. The strap on her left shoe gets stuck, so I roll over and wrap my hand around her shin. I look into her eyes, asking for permission. She nods and bites her lower lip.
I lift her foot into my lap and unbuckle the shoe, then slide her foot out of it. I squeeze her delicate pink sole, not really wanting to give it back. “Your feet are freezing,” I say. I get a pair of socks from my drawer and motion for her to put her feet in my lap.
“I can do it,” she says.
“Humor me.” Let me touch you. Even if it’s just your feet. Please.
With a sigh, she lifts her feet into my lap and leans back on her hands. I bunch a sock up in my hand and slip it over her pink toes. Then I follow with the other foot.
“So…” she says, drawing the word out.
“So,” I reply.
“So…expectations.” She’s still leaning back on her hands, and her breasts are pushed forward.
I turn and roll myself out of the room. At the last moment I turn back, but she gasps when I do, and I see her clutch the T-shirt to her naked breasts. She turns to face away from me and I can see the length of her back. She has a tattoo on her shoulder, but I can’t tell what it is. And another on her lower back. I’m glad she has ink. I hope it means she cares enough about something or someone to permanently mark herself with the idea of it.
“Sorry,” I say. I really didn’t mean to catch her without a shirt.
Holy shit. My heart is pounding like I just ran a mile. I go out and turn the TV on, and wait for her to come out and join me. But then I hear the light click off in the bedroom, and I realize that she’s going to bed.
I only have one bedroom set up. Only one bed. I’d planned to sleep on the couch anyway, just because she’s not my girl and I don’t want to get too used to her being around.
Two hours later, I’m still wide the fuck awake. I roll to my doorway and peer into the darkness. I can almost see the delicate lump that is Star in the darkness of the room. Suddenly, she fidgets and makes a noise.