“It’s my bathroom.”
“Is that why you brought me here, so you could have your own personal peep show?”
He laughs. “Yeah, that’s exactly it. Here’s a robe.”
I cock my head and sarcastically ask, “Oh, nice of your girlfriend to lend it to me.”
He laughs again and backs out of the room, closing the door.
After I’ve dried off and donned the robe, I notice how fresh and soft it is. It’s plushy and oversized, and I belt it tight. I could fall asleep in this robe.
Suddenly I feel very sleepy. Oh god. Did he drug me? I hope he didn’t drug me.
When I step outside the bathroom, Crosby is manspreading on the sofa watchingSportsCenter.
“Do you need anything?” I ask automatically because that’s what I’m supposed to do.
He clicks off the TV. “Thought you’d fallen asleep in there.”
Okay, I guess he’s in the habit of ignoring my questions.
“I might fall asleep standing up. This robe is incredible.”
He nods, and that self-satisfied grin has returned. “Glad it fits. I was guessing at your size.”
I may be half asleep, but I’m sure I just heard him say he was guessing my size?
“You said it was your girlfriend’s robe,” I say.
He nods, then stands up and slowly makes his way over to me. He fluffs the collar of the robe, then smooths it down. Although there’s no direct skin-on-skin touching, I feel his fingers all the way through to my core. My body wakes at his closeness. His masculine scent is almost too much. “It is my girlfriend’s robe. You’re my girlfriend for the weekend.”
I take a beat and consider what he’s just said. And then I realize, all of a sudden, what’s happening.
“Wait a minute. You planned this? You knew about the auction and planned everything? What did you do to get the money? Sell a kidney?”
Crosby laughs.
I am undeterred. “You bought me so we could pretend to be a couple for the weekend to do some sick roleplay?”
He chuckles, and his breath wafts over my cheek. “The truth is, I’ve been studying you for weeks. I know what food you like. I know your favorite bars. Your favorite clothing store. I know your favorite author, your favorite color, and your favorite movie. I know you like presents, and there’s plenty more where that robe came from. The auction? That was a happy coincidence. I’m not great at talking to women, but it was the perfect opportunity to get you alone.”
Glaring up at him, and internally resenting how good he smells, I say, “Your captive audience of one?”
“Oh. You’re free to go,” he says.
“And you’ll cancel the money transfer,” I say.
“Up to you. But maybe sleep on that decision, Kitten. You look tired. Go to bed.”
I look around the room. “Where?”
He jerks his chin toward the only bed in this studio apartment. Above it, on the wall, hangs a black and white electric guitar.
“What is that?” I ask.
“A guitar.”
I roll my eyes. “I know it’s a guitar. What’s it doing on the wall where the headboard should be?”