He scratched his jaw, turning away. “Yeah.”
Cassidy left the cot and padded into the kitchen. He didn’t want to talk about it. She looked at the scars on his back. Her impulse was to run her hands over them, wishing to soothe what was long past being soothed, but it didn’t stop her from wanting to try.
Her hesitation caused him to turn to look over his shoulder at her again, but she ducked her head and moved into the bathroom.
She removed the band holding her ponytail, cringing at the soreness in her scalp as she massaged her fingers through her hair, looking at herself in the mirror, the dark red spilling down over to her shoulders. Her head was pounding, and she felt much older than twenty-eight this morning. She wondered how he managed to drink himself into a near stupor night after night.
Of course, it was a guess. She’d only seen him full-on drunk once, the night she’d left him on her boat.
And she couldn’t point fingers. How many nights had she passed out in her own home? Just because Fred was the only witness didn’t mean she was innocent.
Returning to the kitchen, she smiled when he held out a cup of coffee to her without looking up. He kept his gaze on the skillet. The motion was so casual, it was as though this was a habit of theirs they performed every morning. She gave herself a mental smack at the sentimental thought. Gingerly accepting the cup, standing clear of the popping grease, she watched for a moment before asking, “How can you cook bacon shirtless? Doesn’t it burn?”
He let out a wry chuckle. “Been through worse.”
Cassidy gave him a look but didn’t say anything.
“You work today?”
“No, thank god. My head feels like it’s going to explode, and the sun is annoyingly bright.”
“I’ll take you into town after breakfast.”
Cassidy sipped her coffee, watching his progress, moving back to lean her hip against his ancient-looking refrigerator. “Thank you, by the way.”
He ducked his head to look at her, raising an eyebrow.
“Last night, I mean… not leaving me on my porch. Or at the bar, I suppose.” Running a hand through her hair, she made a face of disbelief. “It’s a bit foggy.”
His eyes slid over her, revealing nothing of his thoughts but stirring up hers. Returning to his task at hand, plating the food, he said, “We have a few things to discuss.”
Her heart slammed into her ribs while her stomach almost vacated her body. What the hell had she done? Goosebumps broke out over her flesh despite the warm room. “We do?”
“Yep.” He grabbed silverware out of a drawer and tipped his head toward the table. “Sit.”
Cassidy stared at the table, wondering if this was something she wanted to hear. But as he turned, taking the two plates of bacon and eggs. The look on his face didn’t leave room for argument. So she begrudgingly followed him to the table and sat.
He handed her a fork. “Dig in.”
“You have my stomach in knots, not sure I have my appetite.”
“Not an option,” he informed her, sitting as well. He picked up a piece of bacon and looked at her expectantly.
Rolling her eyes, she grabbed a piece of bacon. It smelled amazing. And despite what she’d said, her stomach let out another sound of protest after being empty for so long. She nibbled on the crispy treat, a moan of enjoyment slipping out of her.
His pleased look was so fleeting, she might have imagined it.
She ate the first strip quickly, so she went after the second, asking hesitantly, “What did I do?”
“What do you remember doing?”
Cassidy frowned, shaking her head. “Sitting outside and talking.” She narrowed her eyes in concentration as she tried to recall the events of the previous evening. “One of Roman’s friends stopped me in the hallway.” She made a face. “I remember impressions of irritation, but not much else. Was I on the ground?”
The smile on his face was fast, but she caught it. “Yeah.”
“So, basically, I was a train wreck again. Awesome.” She looked at him curiously. “Are you enjoying your front row seat for all of my meltdowns?”
“If shit was easy, it wouldn’t be worth it.”