“Are you okay?” Gael asked.
When I turned, he was staring at me with his brows knitted together.
“Yeah,” I said. “Why?”
“Well, you just looked like a dog shaking water off their head. Actually? You look like you’re going crazy.”
It was lovely how kids had no filter whatsoever.
“Gee, thanks,” I said wryly. “I’m fine. I just, uh, have a headache. Trying to get rid of it.”
“By shaking your head? Wouldn’t that make it worse?”
“For God’s sake, Gael! Do your homework,” I snapped.
I got up, heading to my bedroom and digging in my closet until I found a blanket and extra pillow to make a bed on the couch for Nate. Gael watched me carefully as I began making up the couch, and a funny grin crossed his lips.
“He’s staying the night? So, Nateisyour new boyfriend? Is that why you’re acting all weird?” His face wrinkled in disgust. “Were you guys about todo itbefore I got home?”
At his words, another image flashed in my mind’s eye.Nate, nestled between my legs, his tongue buried in my pussy?—
“No!” I yelled, spinning toward him. “Gross. How do you even know about that stuff?”
He rolled his eyes. “Duh,television. Jeez. Anyway, is he your boyfriend or not? He’s cooler than Rick. I definitely like this guy a lot better.”
“Gael,” I said, scandalized. “Don’t say that. Rick and I were, er…areserious.” I didn’t feel like explaining to my little brother that the relationship was over. Better to leave that for later. “Nate is just… just… uh?—”
“And if he’s not your boyfriend, why’s he gonna sleep in our living room?”
How the hell did I explain why a strange man was staying in our apartment? Nate’s warning about telling anyone rang clear in my mind. Whatever was going on was dangerous. I didn’t want my big fat mouth to be the reason Gael or Mom were put in harm’s way.
Thankfully, Nate called from the bathroom at that exact moment. “Hey, Cameron?”
“Yes?”
“You said towels would be in here, but I don’t see any.”
“Should be in the cabinet or hanging on the back of the door,” I answered.
“Nope. All I see is a little purple triangular towel.”
My hair towel. Frowning, I glared at Gael. He’d been the last person to shower last night, and it was his evening chore to put the dirty towels in the washer and restock fresh.
“Did you forget to do something last night?” I asked him pointedly.
Gael made a pained face. “Whoops.”
“Ugh,” I grunted. “Hang on, Nate. I’ll bring one.” I pointed at Gael. “Just for this? You get to do the dishes tonight.”
“But it’s not my turn,” he complained.
“Too bad.”
I found an overflowing laundry basket in the corner of my bedroom. With everything going on, I’d neglected to fold any of the clean stuff in there, and it was threatening to tip over. On the top sat a fresh, clean towel. I grabbed it, then walked across the hall to the bathroom. I knocked twice.
The door opened a moment later, Nate pulling it wide, and I nearly dropped the towel on the floor as my jaw fell open. He stood, his body shiny and wet, the moisture accentuating every curve of every muscle. He was wearing nothing and had his leather jacket in his left hand, holding it up tobarelycover his crotch in a very minimal attempt at modesty.
My gaze tracked down his body across his six-pack to the twin grooves of the muscles of his midsection that ran diagonally toward his nether regions. Like two highways headed south toward an exciting destination.
