“I’m sorry if I startled you coming up the stairs. I thought something was wrong. I didn’t realize what—well, I still don’t know what was going on.”
“Ants,” Keats supplied. “A shit-ton of red ants attacked me in the yard. I must’ve kneeled in a pile. Georgia hustled me up here before the damn things could eat me alive. But they were all over my clothes so I had to strip them off.”
“Oh.”
“And I’m sorry about . . . all of this,” Georgia said, sitting up in the bed. “It wasn’t that you startled me. It’s just”—her jaw twitched and she looked down at her hands—“I don’t let people inside my house. I have . . . issues with that. I didn’t think about it when Keats needed help, but when that part was over and you came up the stairs, it all hit me.”
Colby kept hold of her hand, not entirely shocked by the revelation. He’d realized early on that Georgia didn’t like to leave her house. She didn’t even step into his yard. So it wasn’t too far of a stretch to realize her anxiety extended to people coming into her space as well. “I’m really sorry. I would’ve never come inside without permission.”
She shook her head. “It’s okay. This is beyond embarrassing. I hate what this does to me. I mean, normal people can have neighbors over.”
Keats frowned. He probably felt the same way Colby did about the word normal. What the hell was normal? Fuck normal.
“But maybe this was good,” she continued. “Like pulling off a really big Band-Aid. Because look, you’re both still here, and I’m not a panting maniac anymore.”
Colby could think of better ways to turn her into a panting maniac, especially with two guys and a bed—and maybe that vibrator, but he should probably be struck down for having that thought at the moment. “It’s one way to do it. Like guerrilla exposure therapy. The room full of spiders for the arachnophobe.”
She shuddered. “Yeah, I think I’ll just keep my fear of spiders then, thank you very much.”
Keats smiled. “Ditto. And add fire ants to that list. I’ve had enough exposure therapy for one day. A few more minutes with my pants on and I might have lost my ability to father children.”
Colby chuckled. Fire ants in your underwear. Now there was a thought to inspire nightmares. He had a feeling he’d missed the ant version of the Tommy Boy “Bees!” scene when Keats had discovered he was being attacked.
“So,” he said, standing up and putting his hand on the back of Keats’s neck, making sure neither of them turned toward the binoculars. “How about I go grab this guy some clothes and we get out of your hair for a little while so you can rest?”
Georgia rubbed her hands on her jeans in what looked to be a calming gesture before she stood, revealing that maybe she wasn’t as easy-breezy as she was pretending to be. “Yeah, okay. I have rogue ants to clean up anyway.”
“Do you need any help?” Keats asked.
She reached out and squeezed his arm, giving him a warm smile. “No, you both have done enough. Thanks for not making me feel like an idiot.”
When she leaned over and kissed Keats’s cheek, Colby had to fight hard not to show his surprise. It was so un-Georgia-like. But she wasn’t done. She stepped over to Colby, pushed up on her toes, bracing a hand on his shoulder, and gave Colby one, too.
It took everything he had not to put his hands on her and pull her closer, inhale that coconut scent he only got a brief whiff of during the kiss. “Our pleasure, gorgeous.”
They all walked downstairs together, but soon Keats and Colby were back outside. Georgia locked up behind them, and Colby and Keats headed next door to get Keats some clothes. But as soon as they walked into the kitchen, Keats spun around and crossed his arms. The stance might have had a shot at looking tough if not for the purple robe. “Well, that was interesting.”
“That’s one word for it,” Colby said, rolling the tension out of his shoulders. “Thanks for the towel thing, by the way. Saved a potentially awkward situation.”
“No problem. I didn’t want to embarrass her,” he said with a shrug. “Not that she should be embarrassed—I mean, how hot is that? But you know how girls can be. And dude, the binoculars? Does that window . . .”
“It looks into my bedroom.”
“Fuck,” he breathed, putting his hand over his heart. “That’s so damn dirty. I think I’m in love.”
Colby laughed. “She’s not spying on you.”
“An epic tragedy,” he said with a grin. “Maybe we should switch rooms. I’m happy to give her a show.”
Colby leveled him with a look, and Keats laughed.
“No, but seriously, are y’all hooking up?”
Colby leaned against the counter. “At this point, we’re just friends.”
“So that’s why you gave me the eat-shit-and-die look when you saw me walk out of the bathroom?”
Colby smirked. “No, that was my what-the-fuck look, not eat-shit-and-die, there’s a difference. I knew before today that Georgia had some issues with people being in her space. I guess I feel a little protective of her and when I saw you there in her house, practically naked, I had no idea what to think.”