“You’rewelcome,” I said, reaching my hand up to grip the back of my neck. “Is the roomokay?”
And,in that moment, it became my favorite room in the whole fucking house. Because,for the first time since I met her, it wasthenthat she smiled at me.Not a slight twitch of her lips, not a polite curve of the mouth in thepresence of her nephew. This was a genuine, all-encompassing grin that creasedthe corners of her eyes and lit her entire face with an ethereal glow. And allI could do was stand there in the doorway, wondering if it was just my heart thathad stopped, or if it was time altogether.
“It’sperfect,” she nearly whispered, her voice hushed against the impact of hersmile.
Whatthe fuck is happening?My exhale left my lungs in a gust ofuncertainty, while my inhale puffed me up with pride for making her happy. Formaking hersmile.
“Cool,”I responded, not knowing what else to say. “Uh, over here …” I walked away fromthe door to head further down the hallway. She followed. “This is thebathroom.”
Ipushed the next door open. Tabby’s eyes lit up with another dose of shock asshe stepped inside, taking in spacious wide, glass shower stall.
“Well,this is nicer than mine,” she complimented, running her fingertips over thevanity countertop.
Chuckling,I leaned against the wall. “Surprised?”
“Uh,yeah,” she said, laughing airily. “A little. I didn’t think it’d be so …clean.”
Laughingand pushing a hand through my hair, I decided to mention, “If you want to takea bath while you’re here, there’s a jacuzzi in my bathroom.”
Allremnants of happiness withered from her face as she screwed her features upwith disgust. “I don’t even want to know what’s happened in there.”
“Uh,aside from jerking off about seventy-thousand times, nothing,” I countered,narrowing my eyes with a smug smirk. “You’re the first woman aside from mymother and sisters to ever be in this house.”
“Oh,like I’m going to believe that,” she snickered, shaking her head incredulously.“Seriously. You don’t need to lie to impress me. I don’t give a crap.”
“Well,clearly you do, if you’re making accusations like that. And I’m telling you, Idon’t let the women I sleep with know where I live. That’s thelastthing I need,” I groused, folding my arms over my chest.
“Youlet my sister know where you lived, after sending those letters,” she argued,pinching her lips with a victorious smirk.
“Thatwas different,” I insisted, my tone wry.
“Oh,yeah? Well, how do you know you don’t have a whole tribe of children out therethat you just don’t know about?” she shot back. “Or better yet, how do you knowa thousand women haven’t gotten rid of pregnancies thatyoumadehappen?”
Thislittle fucking witch. How could she go from being so grateful to being sofucking nasty in a matter of minutes?
Ican handle a lot. I could banter with the best of them, and I enjoy it,especially with her for some reason. But that comment … That was a low blow, consideringshe had read the letters I’d sent. She knew how I had felt back then, and shewas using it against me.
“Youknow what, Tabitha?” I shook my head, edging away and turning to cross the hallto my own room. “Go fuck yourself.”
Iheard the sharp intake of her breath from behind me as I threw my door open andlet it slam shut. Crossing the floor to my bed, I stopped and pinched thebridge of my nose.Fuck. It took me a second to realize that what I wasfeeling wasn’t even anger. No, that pinging ache in my stomach wasn’t fury orrage; it was the feeling of being insulted and hurt—byher. For reasonsI couldn’t yet understand, I hated that she thought that way about me.
Asoft knock came to the door. “What?” I growled, pinching harder.
Tabbycame in, quietly stepping into the room. “Hey, I, um … I didn’t mean that. Ishouldn’t have said it.”
“Whatever,”I grumbled.
“God,you sound just like Greyson,” she laughed gently, awkwardly.
Reluctantly,I turned around to face her. Guilt was painted over her face like a timid mask,all doe-eyes and pouty lips. Not knowing what to do with her hands, her fingerstwisted together, and she looked up at me with what I assumed was the hope thatI’d forgive her.
“I’msorry.” Her words floated on her weighted breath. It was something I doubtedshe said very often.
“Don’tsweat it,” I muttered, inhaling and exhaling the remainder of my hurt away.
Hereyes skittered to the side and eyed my bed. I had to admit, having her there,in such close proximity to where I slept, injected enough sexual tension intothe air to suffocate me. If I wasn’t absolutely terrified of her screaming andclawing my eyes out, I might’ve tossed her down right there.
“Ishould unpack,” she announced abruptly, the moment she realized I’d followedher gaze.
