“What are you doing?”
He grabbed the remote, paused the show, then turned to give her his attention. “I’m watching Gilmore Girls. What are you doing?”
“You seriously like this show?”
He tossed a kernel into his mouth and shrugged. “Willow used to make me watch it with her when it first came out. It’s addictive.” He set the bottle back between her legs then pointed the remote at the TV and resumed the program. The corner of his mouth twitched as he said, “You’d enjoy it more if you actually watched it.”
So, he had noticed her staring. Cocky bastard.
If Kyle could pretend like all this was status quo and no big deal, then so could she. But then, maybe this wasn’t such an adjustment for him. He was used to sharing his house with his sister.
Pen, on the other hand, had been living by herself since she was eighteen years old—seven years of solitude, and she’d loved every minute of it. The two years before that she’d spent living in an institution where she had zero privacy or space to herself. Even at its worst, her life at Belleview had been an improvement from the one that had gotten her committed there.
Determined to enjoy the show and ignore her mostly-naked roommate, Pen turned her attention back to the TV. As they watched in silence, she reached into the bowl between Kyle’s legs and startled when he grabbed her forearm. Perhaps he wasn’t as into the show as he’d led her to believe. Turning her arm, he studied the underside of her wrist.
“I was going to ask you about this tattoo the other night. It’s interesting.” He swept his thumb over the calligraphy, causing goose bumps to erupt over her flesh. She’d never been this sensitive to a man’s touch, and it unnerved her that Kyle had such a powerful effect on her. Did he feel the line of scar tissue hidden beneath the ink?
“Tetelesti,” he mused. “What does it mean?” His thumb brushed over her wrist a second time and she pulled it back before he could make it a third.
“It means ‘It is finished.’” Closing the subject, she reached into the bowl and grabbed some popcorn, stuffing it into her mouth. Now she’d have an excuse not to talk. “Bleh.” She crunched on the dry, flavorless kernels. After swallowing them down, she chased the mouthful of popcorn with a few chugs of wine. “That was horrible. Where’s the salt? The butter?” She took another swig of wine because she was pretty sure popcorn was still stuck in her throat. “You’re a monster.”
He laughed. “It’s plain. I avoid sodium and fat whenever I can.”
Pen raised her brows, giving him a surprised look. “Worried about your girlish figure, are you?”
Kyle grunted then took the bottle from her hand and tipped it back. She couldn’t resist watching the corded muscles in his throat working; the bob of his Adam’s apple was mesmerizing.
Handing her the bottle, he said, “I think you and I both know there’s nothing girlish about this figure. But, if you ever need the reminder, you know where I’m staying.”
Oh, snap.
Kyle turned his attention back to the show, or at least he pretended to, because it was damn difficult keeping his eyes off the beautiful woman next to him. As well-intentioned as his motives may have been by offering to stay and protect her, keeping his hands to himself was going to be a test of endurance. Despite her no sex stipulation in agreeing to let him stay, he knew the condition had nothing to do with a lack of attraction between them.
Several times since he’d settled in beside her, munching popcorn and minding his own business, he’d caught her gaze straying in his direction. He felt it every time those beautiful dark eyes roved over him, everywhere they lingered…and she seemed to be particularly fond of his abs. Thank God for the oversized bowl between his legs or else she would have known just how much her wandering eyes affected him.
“So, I have this thing I have to go to tomorrow night.”
She reached between his legs and grabbed a few kernels, popping them into her mouth, then made a face like she was surprised to find them just as dry and tasteless as the last bite.
“It’s not going to get any better the more you eat it. Would you like me to go get some butter and salt?”
“Yes, please. Do you think your figure can handle it?”
“You’re funny…” He got up and headed for the kitchen, thankful for the excuse to step away and get his hard-on under control. “So,” he called, grabbing a half stick of butter from the fridge, “tell me about this thing.”
“It’s a birthday party for a friend. It’s at The Rush.”
“Does this friend have a name?” Kyle asked, dropping the butter into a bowl and putting it into the microwave.
“Yes, he does. His name is Travis.”
“And you want me to take you to this party?” The microwave beeped and Kyle pulled out the bowl of sizzling butter.
“Do you think your acting skills are up to snuff? Think you can convince my friends you’re hopelessly in love with me?”
She was baiting him. He poured the butter over the popcorn then began salting it. “I think I can handle it.” Returning with the bowl, Kyle propped it between his legs and Pen reached for his crotch, grabbing a handful of popcorn and shoving the buttery glob in her mouth. Closing her eyes, she moaned a familiar sound that took his mind to places it best not go, but his cock had no qualms remembering.
“Mmm.”
And his hard-on was back. Awesome.
“This is so much better than that dry, tasteless crap.” She tipped back her Moscato and chugged a few swallows.
“What time are you supposed to be there?”
“Six.”
“Then I guess it’s a date.”
“A fake date,” she clarified, shoveling more popcorn into her mouth.
Tomato, tamatto...
They watched two more episodes and finished the first season of Gilmore Girls. Perhaps it was the bottle of wine she’d drunk, but halfway through the last episode, she’d resituated herself and, by the time she was done, Pen was snuggled up against him. Her legs were tucked beneath her, her arm resting against his as she leaned in his direction. Eventually, her head settled on his shoulder. It surprised him how fast she’d warmed up to him, considering how resistant she’d been to the idea at first. Pen was hard to read. She gave off this fiercely independent vibe, but then at moments like this, he sensed vulnerability in her.
It was nice…aside from the killer case of blue balls he’d be sporting in the morning. Hanging out with her, relaxing and kicking back, was more fun than he’d had with his clothes on in a long time. Kyle grabbed the remote and stopped the show as the credits began to roll. She didn’t move. He tipped his head to peer down at her and discovered the reason why.
Brushing a fallen chunk of hair out of her face, he whispered, “Hey, Pen. You gotta wake up.” She stirred but didn’t rouse. In fact, she burrowed in tighter. He tried again to wake her. “Pen.” He gently jostled her shoulder. “You should go to bed. It’s late.”
Her lids fluttered open this time, eyes hazy from sleep. She blinked a few times and then clarity returned. She startled, sitting upright as if surprised to find herself nestled against him.
“I’m sorry. I must have fallen asleep.” She pushed her wild curls out of her face and glanced back at him.
“No worries.” He stood and offered her his hand. “Let me help you up.” She seemed hesitant to accept the assistance at first, and then acquiesced. Her hand was so tiny in his. She took a step and winced. “Here…” She momentarily tensed when he slipped his arm around her, but as they stepped forward, she leaned a good portion of her weight on him. “That ankle would feel a lot better if you had it wrapped. It’ll stabilize the joint and help reduce the swelling.”
“I don’t have anything to wrap it with.”
“Step in here a minute.” He led Pen into his room and helped her sit on the edge of the bed. He pulled out an ace wrap and a roll of fight tape from his duffle bag. Kneeling in front of her, he propped her foot on his thigh and began
applying a figure eight wrap on her ankle then secured it with the tape. “Try this.” He helped her to stand and she tested her weight.
“It’s better. Thank you.”
“No problem.”
She studied him a moment, her expression inscrutable. He returned the tape roll to his bag, needing something to do because he was pretty sure pulling her into his arms and kissing her senseless was against the rules.
“Goodnight, Kyle.”
“Night, Pen.”
When he turned around, she was gone.
Chapter Ten
Pen woke to the sound of her doorbell ringing. Still half asleep, she tossed back the covers and grabbed her robe off the hook in the closet before trudging to the door. “Just a minute,” she grouched when the ringing started up again. Peeking out the glass, she scowled as she flipped open the deadbolt and opened the door. “Hey, Ronnie.”
“Don’t sound so thrilled to see me,” her sister snapped, crossing her arms over her modest chest that was drowning in her business suit.
“You woke me up. I’m not thrilled to see anyone at five-thirty in the morning.”
Ronnie rolled her eyes. “If you didn’t dodge my calls, maybe I wouldn’t have to come here to talk to you in person.” A pause of silence passed between them. “You’re not even going to ask me in, are you?”
It wasn’t that Pen didn’t want to, she just knew what her sister was going to say. The same thing she said every time Pen saw her or she answered the phone. And yet, despite the differences between them, and after all those years, she still wanted her sister’s approval. Something she’d never get, and still it didn’t stop her from wishing things could be different.
Ronnie needed to leave. If Kyle came strolling through, it would just throw fuel on her sister’s fire. She didn’t think she could stand seeing anymore disappointment in her eyes. Veronica was nothing like her—straight-laced, conservative…judgy. She’d married well and had a big mansion in a gated community for her effort.
Pen was happy for her sister, really, she was. More than anything, she wanted to have a relationship with Ronnie where they could have coffee together, or drink a bottle of wine and share the intimate details of their lives. But Pen couldn’t share those details with her. Veronica wasn’t strong like Pen, she couldn’t handle the truth, and what good would it do to burden her with it now? To tell her what their stepfather had done to her? To talk about how Mom had stood by and let it happen, because if she acknowledged the truth then she’d have had to do something about it. Heaven forbid she lose her life of luxury. Veronica had been the lucky one. She’d escaped—graduating, and off to college before Mom remarried. Pen was the one who’d been left behind to experience the depravity of an evil man no one could see for who he really was.
“This really isn’t a good time for me, Ronnie. I’m sorry.”
“Then when is a good time, Pen? You can’t keep avoiding this. Mom isn’t getting any better. Pretty soon she won’t even know who you are. She won’t be able to recognize you.”
Must be nice for her to forget. How convenient. She won’t even bring her sins with her to the grave.
“I don’t understand why you won’t go see her, Pen. How can you be so…self-absorbed?”
“I’m sorry.” That seemed to be all she ever said to her sister.
“It’s not good enough. Will you just please—”
A door closed behind Pen and Veronica’s words halted mid-sentence as her gaze darted past Pen’s shoulder. She knew the moment her sister spotted Kyle, because her eyes grew wide with shock. But not even Miss Prim and Proper could resist letting her stare travel down the length of him and then slowly back up. Color bloomed in her sister’s cheeks as she lost her train of thought. The scuff of bare feet across the linoleum drew closer and she inwardly cursed. Three minutes. I just needed three more minutes.
Before she could react, a muscular arm slipped around Pen’s waist hugging her against Kyle’s hard body. His heat seared her from behind, the kind of bare skin radiation that confirmed he was scantily dressed. His lips brushed her cheek and he murmured, “Good morning” in her ear and she felt the husky rumble all the way to her toes. Then he reached past her shoulder extending his hand toward her sister, who was staring at him in shock.
“I’m Kyle, Pen’s boyfriend.”
She started to deny it, not wanting to put one more lie between them, but then thought better of it. This already looked bad enough. How much worse would it be for a half-naked man to be traipsing through her house that wasn’t her significant other?
Veronica seemed to be functioning on a ten-second delay. When she placed her hand in Kyle’s and still seemed at a loss for words, Pen said, “Kyle, this is my sister, Veronica. Ronnie, this is Kyle, my boyfriend,” she murmured the last part, finding it difficult to say.
Several things became apparent to Pen in that moment. One: Kyle was clearly comfortable in his own skin and had no qualms about walking around half-dressed. Two: He was used to having women staring at him in slack-jawed appreciation and Pen wasn’t exactly sure how she felt about that. And three: Her sister could possibly be having a stroke.
“I was just going to put some coffee on if you want to come in,” Kyle offered, letting the invitation hang. Then he turned, and both she and Ronnie stared as he sauntered toward the kitchen wearing nothing but a pair of low-riding gym shorts. A woman would have to be blind not to admire those broad muscular shoulders, tapering to his narrow waist. He moved with lithe grace that made a woman wonder what a body like that was capable of between the sheets—temptingly, Pen already knew.
She didn’t blame her sister for staring. Kyle Scott was a vast improvement over her portly, premature-balding husband. Donovan was a decent enough guy, with deep pockets that probably made him attractive to a lot of women.
Once Kyle was out of sight, Ronnie regained her staunch composure and eyed Pen with a critically raised brow. “Really, Pen?”
“What?” she snapped defensively, the condemnation and her sister’s voice grated on Pen’s nerves.
“When are you going to grow up?”
“I don’t know. When are you going to quit being such a pretentious, judgmental bitch?” She loved her sister to death, but honest to God, she was a snob with zero concept of the harsh realities of this world. Daddy Warbucks had played his part well, funding Ronnie’s Ivy League education, and she’d drunk the Kool-Aid, just like Mom.
“Maybe sometime this week you can drag yourself away from your boy-toy long enough to go see Mom.”
Boy-toy? Pen wasn’t sure why she was so offended for Kyle, or why she felt the need to defend him, but the response flew from her mouth sharply. “Just because he’s hot, you think that makes him superfluous? I’ll have you know that ‘boy-toy’—” Pen pointed toward the kitchen. “—is a world-famous MMA fighter with an annual income that would impress even you. But unlike some people, I don’t place a person’s value on their pocketbook.”
“Whatever.” Cue the eyeroll. “I didn’t come here to fight with you. Just go see Mom.” Her sister turned and walked away. Pen stood there still reeling, watching as she got into her black BMW SUV and drove off.
Pen shut the door and rested her forehead against it, taking a few moments to compose herself. She was so tired of bearing the brunt of her sister’s condemnation and judgement, all because Pen was protecting her from the ugly truth. Exhaling a sigh, she pushed away from the door and headed for the kitchen. Kyle was standing at the counter near the coffee pot, watching out the window above the kitchen sink. Had he overheard their fight? Hopefully not.
“Your sister left?” he asked, handing Pen a cup of coffee as she walked in.
“Yeah.” Pen took a sip rather than explain. Man, this was good.
She sat at the table and he took a chair across from her, studying her over the rim of his mug. “I take it you two aren’t close?” He casually sipped his coffee, waiting for her to respond.
Why was he prying?
He wasn’t really her boyfriend. What did he care about her personal life? “It’s complicated,” Pen admitted, but she refused to say more.
“Most relationships are.”
“Are you always going to do this?” She took a sip of her coffee, holding his stare as he did the same.
“What’s that?”
“Walk around here half-naked.”
A slow smile curled the corners of his mouth, revealing a flash of straight white teeth. “Does it bother you? Don’t like your sister thinking you’re shacking up with some boy-toy?”
She winced. “You heard that, huh?”
“I did.” He stood, drained his cup, and set it in the sink. “It was nice of you to defend me, though. You didn’t have to do that.”
On his way past her, he ruffled his hand over the top of her head—a far cry from the “good morning” he’d given her a few minutes ago, though now he had no audience to pretend for.
“Why won’t you go see your mom?”
Pen glared up at him as he paused in the doorway. “Don’t think that just because you’re my fake boyfriend that gives you permission to meddle in my life.”
Chuckling, Kyle held up his hands in defense. “I wouldn’t think of it.”
“So…you might have been right about Kyle.” Pen flopped into the chair across from Vi after the last patient of the day left.
Vi glanced up from the chart she was writing in, set the pen down, and regarded her with rapt interest. “Really? Which part?”
“The stalker part. He’s not the guy sending me those messages.”
“I knew it! What convinced you?”
And this was where it was going to get a little tricky. “He came by the house last night—to tell me he wasn’t the guy—and while he was there, I got another message so…the evidence was pretty compelling. It’s not him.”
“Any ideas who it could be?”
She told Vi the same thing she’d told Kyle when he’d asked her. “None.”
Her friend pulled off her cheaters and tossed them onto the desk then closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Pen, you’ve got to go to the police. I don’t think this guy’s messing around.”
In for the Win (Against the Cage Book 5) Page 8