He laughs nervously while blushing, and then he turns toward my bathroom. "I'm gonna take a long, cold shower. I'll be back when I'm done."
I laugh a little louder as he disappears into the bathroom, and then I drop back to the bed to cover my face with my hands. I can't believe I just woke up with my hand down Dane's shorts.
When he showed up last night, I'd never been so relieved. I still don't know where my phone is. I had it on vibrate, and I haven't been able to find it since I got home the first time. After being grilled about what surgery I had, I finally broke down and told him a lie.
Gallbladder surgery.
He seemed to accept it.
I was too weak and exhausted to let him see my telltale for lying. I usually blink two rapid times. He always called me out on it when we were friends. Last night I kept my eyes lowered, possibly even closed, when I told him.
"You okay?" Dane asks, startling me out of my silent reverie.
I jump up in the bed, quickly regretting that when my skin stretches around the small incisions.
"Sorry," he chuckles, but I'm too distracted by the fact he's wearing nothing more than a towel right now. What the hell? And when did he get a tattoo?
On his arm is a broad, tribal tattoo that goes from his shoulder to the bend of his elbow. I really, really hate him for that, because it only makes him sexier.
"Britt is supposed to be bringing me some clothes," he says, grinning when he catches my wandering gawk. "I'm going to stay with you for a couple of days to make sure you're okay."
He's staying with me?
"You don't have to stay. Really. I'm fine now. The doctor said it was just because the pharmacy messed up on my meds."
"And I'll deal with them today," he says through clenched teeth.
He seems... protective. Like he once did. I just want to tell him to come back to bed and finish what I subconsciously started.
His eyes lock with mine, and I willingly stare back, unable to help myself. For eleven years I've fantasized about Dane Sterling. Now he's wearing a towel in my room, and nothing in the past matters. We're not kids anymore. I'm not an inexperienced virgin he has to be careful with. I'm a woman, damn it.
A knock at my bedroom door ices the moment and brings us back to reality. Crap. Who is—
"Hey," Tria says, making my heart stumble to a nearly exhausted halt.
How did I forget about Tria? She was with him. At one in the morning, she was dressed for bed and so was he. They showed up together, and even though I was weak and sick, I distinctly remember Tria's car missing from my house when they rushed me out.
I have to swallow back bile. Now I just want them both out.
"Hey," Dane says, smiling at her.
He doesn't bother to act awkward in his towel either, proving they are incredibly comfortable with each other.
"Sorry to bug you, but my car is still at your place, and I need to go grab some stuff if I'm going to be staying here."
Oh. So they were planning to stay together. In my house. Of course her car is at his house.
"Actually," I interject, trying to sound calm and not at all sick and destroyed, "I'm calling Maverick to come over. If I have to have a babysitter, then he'll do. Besides, he owes me more favors than I can ever really collect."
I smile, keeping the bitterness out of my gaze. These two need to get out of my house. Right now.
"You can call Mav if you want, but I'm still staying. He can sleep in the guestroom," Dane says with a shrug.
Surely he doesn't plan on sleeping with me again. As tempting as it is to find out, I also feel gross. Tria and Dane were together, more than likely in the same bed. No thank you.
"Please, just go. I don't want you here because it's just too... odd. You should take Tria back to your house. I'm sure the two of you were somehow interrupted, and though I appreciate what you did—since I have no idea where my phone is—I just want to relax for a while."
Tria and Dane exchange a look, and then Dane starts laughing. "We were somehow interrupted? Your sister woke me up at one in the morning because she was banging on my door when she couldn't get a hold of you or get into your house. By the way, we need to discuss your pathetic excuse for an entry code."