“How long have been standing there like a creeper? I thought you left with the others.”
“I was going to, but Atticus changed his mind. Said he wanted someone here to babysit, and I drew the short straw.”
Why do I get the feeling he’s being very literal? And why does it hurt my feelings that he doesn’t like me? I haven’t done a dang thing to him, except for break into his house out of necessity, and he’s acting like I’m a monster.
I’m almost stomping as I go to the pool house, slamming the door behind me. Sure enough, there are several swimsuits, trunks, and towels to choose from. There are even pool toys. Freaking Finn. I’m muttering to myself when the door opens and he stands in the doorway.
“Have something you want to say to me?”
“Nope.”
“Doesn’t sound like it out here.”
“Stop eavesdropping, and you won’t have to worry about it.”
He stands there, like he can’t believe I’m talking back to him.
“Do you mind? I’m about to dress unless your fetish is voyeurism.”
“That’s not what voyeurism is, for the record. If I were into that, then I’d want to watch you fuck someone. Not get dressed.”
Damn him.
“Just go.”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t think I will. Atticusdidtell me to watch you and make sure you don’t get into any trouble.”
Fine. Two can play at this.
I drop the towel facing him. His eyes widen as he looks me over in slow appraisal. My body feels achy and my nipples bud. My mouth is dry, which is a stark contrast to what’s happening between my legs. Wonder what Finn would do right now if I told him I’d never been kissed?
Before I can open my mouth, he frowns. “You’re bleeding, which means the pool will need to be cleaned.”
He spins on his heel, leaving me one big, conflicting mess. Part of me wants to run after him. The other side of me isn’t sure if I should kiss him or shove him into the pool. I settle for rinsing off in the small shower before dressing. When I step out of the pool house, he’s tossing some kind of powder into the water.
“Is there a first aid kit down here?”
He sighs. “I can stitch it, if you’d like?”
I eye him. “Not sure if I should trust you. What if you give me an ugly scar on purpose?”
“I wouldn’t do that, Goldie.”
Crossing my arms, I ask, “And what are your qualifications to stitch me?”
He actually smiles, which is kind of hot. I mean, he’s cute when he’s all grumpy, but this? This makes him look like someone I’d want to hang out with. Maybe even see a movie with.
“My qualifications? Well, let’s see. I’m an actual doctor, for one.”
“What? I don’t believe you.”
“Why would I lie about that?”
I guess anything is possible. I mean, the man does have a pool in his basement.
“If you’re a doctor, then why do you work weird hours?”
“I have a private practice.”