He laughs, his eyes lowering briefly. “Pretty much. Never knew it was an issue with the beard.”
“The beard was just very distracting. Sleeping on you, feeling that boundary crossed, and waking up feeling unsatisfied…that’s when I realized…I still don’t know what we’re doing,” I say on a long sigh.
He grins, staring at me. “Nothing while we’ve been drinking.”
That…irks me. We’re supposed to sleep in the same bed and do nothing? Again?!
Okay, so last time it was a couch, but still.
“You’re serious?”
His grin only grows. “Yeah. I’m serious. I’ve waited a year. I can wait one more day to make sure you’re sober.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
He shrugs. “You kept saying you weren’t ready to settle down. But then there was a little hope when you said Liam wouldn’t settle down, almost as though you’d slipped up and said it, then tried to back pedal.”
He bends, his delicious breath bathing my lips, and my whole body tenses and burns as a powerful ache forms between my thighs.
“That was when I decided you were ready, because I knew once I had you, I wouldn’t be able to give you up. And I won’t share.”
I lean forward, ready to see if those lips of his are as soft as they look, but he reels back, grinning at me when my eyes open.
“Tomorrow,” he says softly.
Lucky for him, I happen to be exhausted tonight.
Chapter 10
Wild Ones Tip #645
Mean what you say. Or keep your mouth shut. And don’t get upset when we put words in your mouth if you plead silence.
LILAH
I jerk awake, feeling around for Benson, but his side of the bed is cold. I do hear muffled words coming from the bathroom, and I stand to go listen.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine, Mom. I’m not concerned with any of that. Haven’t been in a long time. That’s not why I still live here.” He grows quiet, and my brow furrows. This is the first time I’ve ever heard him talk to any of his family.
“Yeah. Two weeks from now. I’ll see you guys then.”
Again he grows quiet, and I shamelessly press my ear to the door.
“I’ve already told you I don’t care if they come, but it’s up to you which rooms they take. They’ve come plenty of other times. Just so long as it’s nowhere near mine, I’ve never given a damn which rooms they’re in.”
He groans like he’s frustrated.
“I know they’re divorced. I don’t see her like that anymore. But stop thinking we’re going to be that kind of family that doesn’t have scars.”
I frown, pulling back from the door.
“Look, I have to go. I have some friends who crashed here last night.”
Yes, I keep listening, wondering if he might mention me to his mother. Then realize how creepy that sounds and hope he doesn’t mention me.
“Yes, I have friends, Mom,” he says, sounding amused. “Many of them.”
Another beat passes.
“Because it’s Tomahawk.”
I roll my eyes, inwardly groaning as he chuckles, and I back away from the door. Apparently his family and his friends get the same reasoning as to why one can’t know about the other.
I jog back to the bed, looking guilty as hell when he swings open that door. His eyes widen in surprise that I’m awake. Or maybe he’s surprised that I’m here. I suddenly feel underdressed, because this is not how I envisioned this morning going after last night.
He opens his mouth to speak, when we hear laughter float up the stairs.
“Benson! You awake yet? We can’t get your fancy stove to work!” Paul yells. “And we’re starving.”
He groans, and I tug at the ends of his shirt to cover me a little better.
My boat and Aunt Penny’s Jeep are both here, and I decide on the Jeep as he hustles out without saying a word. He’s always embarrassed the day after drinking, and last night…things got real.
Now he’s dodging me.
Got it. I don’t need a sign.
I do need pants.
Quickly, I hurry to the room where my clothes are, find something to wear, brush my teeth, and creep down the stairs to the sounds of people chuckling.
“That damn dog destroyed the fireworks,” I hear Joey saying. I forgot he was even here last night. There were a lot of people still here when we went to bed.
Sounds like they still are, but I tiptoe out the back—or front!—door to the Jeep. I’m silent as I close the door, and then I crank it and put it in gear, getting out like it’s the walk of shame, minus the fun, shameful part.
I make the long drive through town, then drive all the way to Aunt Penny’s, park her Jeep, and hop out, pulling my backpack on as I go. I slowly walk through the woods, hoping that cougar isn’t lurking for round two, since I’m unarmed. Again.
My eyes stay on the bank, somewhat hoping to hear the roar of Benson’s boat. But that doesn’t happen. And when I get to my cabin, my dock is empty, except for my brothers’ boat that is tied off next to the broken end of the dock they still haven’t repaired.