Page 72 of Himbo Hitman
Because he’sstillattracted to me.
Even after the sex.
Kinda smug about being that good.
CHAPTER TWENTY
ST. CLARE
It’shard to get out of bed. It’s hard to do much of anything except lie here, naked, with a huge fucking smile on my face, remembering last night.
Perry was as enthusiastic under me as he is with everything else he does.
I have absolutely no clue what his reaction is going to be this morning. Given that he wasn’t in a huge hurry to leave after he got off gives me hope he’s not one of those guys who wants to use me for a quick come before going back to his normal life. That’s not something I’m interested in entertaining, and it’s happened more times than I want to admit.
The problem boils down to the fact that Perry insisted, barely days ago, that he’s straight, and I know last night only happened because he started worrying he might die today. And yeah, that doesn’t feel the best.
Sex, great.
Being a bucket list item, almost insulting.
I’m sure Perry didn’t mean for it to come across that way because he isn’t the kind of person to intentionally hurt someone—gunshot aside—but he’s one hundred percent the type of person to unintentionally hurt someone. It’s one of the reasons I can’t bring myself to get out of bed.
The other reasons are that I’m enjoying reliving the sex, I can smell him on my sheets, and I’m also low-key worried about what he’s walking into today.
Plus, my underwear is hanging over the arm of a chair, still drying from last night.
Lars took the clothes I was wearing yesterday and said he was putting them in for a wash with his, so I really hope he managed to do it because otherwise, I’m going to be disgusting.
An email beeps on my phone, and I reach over, unplug it from where it’s charging, and open my inbox, expecting to find spam.
It’s an email from Livy Sullivan, the bookkeeper I hired for Saint Clare’s, who’s been a fucking godsend so far.
Hey Reilly,
When you have a chance, I’ve attached a list of transactions I wasn’t sure about that need allocating. If you can let me know what they’re for, I’ll make sure they’re coded right for tax purposes.
I skim the rest of the email, which goes into more detail than my brain can probably handle, and then click on the link. There are about two pages of transactions dating back to when Saint Clare’s was opened. It doesn’t look too difficult, so I figure I can knock it out over coffee, and then hopefully, that will mean that we’re all caught up.
It hurts that Colin isn’t the one here doing it, and every day without him is another day of fear for where he is and relief that his body hasn’t been pulled from the Sound.
Yet.
I scroll down to his number and click on it, mostly habit, only a little bit hoping, and get the deadline straight away. There are so many things we need to talk about and didn’t get the time to. I’m almostmadat the way he’s abandoned me. Almost, but not actually, because I know something’s happened.
I’ve moved past hoping that he’ll show up after some extended vacation, and I know Dad and my stepmom are worried as well. All I can do is keep taking it one day at a time and maybe stop getting so fucking distracted by sweet eyes and what felt like amagnificent cock. I have to believe that somehow he’ll get us a name today and that the name is Yanni’s.
Then … well, fuck. I don’t know.
Lars made a great point that we could go to Yanni to trade him for Colin, but what then? And how do we trust that he’d keep his word anyway? I’m not exactly his favorite person.
The other alternative is to go to the police. Tell them about Perry. Tell them about Yanni hiring him, and then they can be the ones who get Colin back.
Both options throw Perry under the bus though, and I think, maybe, that Perry trusts me. He shouldn’t. He has to know that finding my brother comes first, but maybe that’s the reason he slept with me to begin with.
Maybe he’s trying to get under my skin. Trying to make me forget.
If he was even the slightest bit more calculating than he is, I might believe it.
