He grinned down at me and lowered the phone from his ear. I did the same, hanging up as I stepped back to allow him entrance. “Sorry. My alarm didn’t go off.” I hated sleeping in.
“No problem. I’ll make a protein shake while you …” He trailed off as his eyes moved up my body and locked onto my head.
“What?” I patted it frantically, finding only the silk wrap that protected my curls during sleep.
“So this is what you look like in the morning. It’s awesome.” The bastard’s grin couldn’t be any bigger.
I flushed, but not at his teasing. Unfortunately, as much as I wanted to ignore it, Arran’s smile gave me butterflies. Like a kaleidoscopic monsoon of butterflies. A best friend should not give a girl butterflies. And he definitely should not make me tingle in my yoga pants, if you know what I mean.
I ignored his comment. “You make the shakes. I’ll hurry to get ready.” Every weekday, we ran along Ardnoch Beach for a workout. I’d been doing it alone for years. Arran ran early in the morning, like me, and when we bumped into each other that first time, he’d given me no choice but to become his running partner.
“Nice jammies.”
My step faltered as I became acutely aware of my tiny sleep shorts, tank top, and lack of bra. Almost feeling his eyes burning into my ass cheeks, I experienced a flare of arousal mixed with annoyance, a familiar feeling around Arran. Without looking at him, I flipped him the bird and disappeared down the hall to the sound of his rich laughter.
Even though I’d only have to shower again after our run, I rinsed off because I was sweaty from my nightmare. Not wanting to think about the bad dream where the past and my fear had merged, I dried and changed into running clothes—sports tank and yoga pants. It was pretty much my everyday uniform because of my work at Ardnoch Estate, a massive private property that belonged to Lachlan and Arran (and the three other Adair siblings). Lachlan, an ex-Hollywood action star, had turned it into an extremely lucrative members-only club for TV and film industry professionals. The level of privacy and security at Ardnoch made it the perfect place for me to work.
I’d just sat down at my vanity to fix my hair when there was a knock. “You decent?”
“Depends who you ask,” I quipped.
Arran laughed. “Was that a yes?”
I glanced around my room a little nervously. “Yes.”
The door opened, and he strode in with tall glasses filled with green juice, a barely palatable protein powder mixed with water. His eyes found me, and he placed mine on the vanity.
“Thank you. I’m sorry I’m making us late.”
“Don’t be.” Arran wandered around my room, and I tried not to tense up as he ran his fingers over my jewelry box and peeked into my wardrobe. No one had been in this space except me. I didn’t want to be uptight about him nosing around, but I fought the urge to spring to my feet as he reached for the handle on the built-in closet.
“Hey, nosy, there’s nothing in there for you.” I tried to keep my tone light, but I could tell by the way Arran’s lips pinched he heard the slight panic in my voice.
Whatever he saw in my face softened his expression. “Sorry. I am a nosy bastard. Just never been back here before.” He shrugged and sat on the end of my bed, gulping his drink and making a face.
I relaxed a little as his gaze darted around the room again. Though I was born in Chicago, I lived most of my life in California, so I’d brought a little California contemporary to my beachy bedroom. All whites, soft blues, and wood tones.
Our eyes met as he looked back at me.
He stared in that intense way of his.
Arran Adair looked a lot like his brothers. He was the youngest among the men, but Arrochar, their only sister, was the youngest of the Adair brood. Arran probably looked most like Lachlan, strange considering I’d never felt any attraction toward Lachlan. He was like a big brother to me. With somewhat slightly smoother features, Arran wasn’t as rugged as his eldest brother. But they shared the same striking azure eyes and dark blond hair. While Lachlan sported a short beard these days, Arran fluctuated between the smooth look and unshaven scruff. He was tall at six feet two, broad shouldered, slim hipped, a rangy, athletic physique that caused all those aforementioned tingles. I liked that he was taller than my five ten.
Not that he needed to be taller than me for any reason.
Especially not romantic ones.
I had no intention of becoming romantically involved with anyone.
Arran’s eyes narrowed slightly as he stared at me. “What are you thinking?”