Page 71 of Breaking Her

"Not far," was all he said.

I didn't press the issue. I'd find out soon enough.

And I did. Sooner than I thought. As though he'd found a place just to be close to the set, it was a scant ten-minute drive from the lot to his lodgings.

"You're staying at a house?" I asked him as he parked. It was nice, not too huge, but heavily gated. It didn't seem like the type of place you could stay for just a few nights.

"Temporarily."

"If it's so temporary, why not just stay at a hotel?"

"I needed more privacy. I require gates. And tinted windows."

I digested that, and thought, just maybe, that I understood it.

He parked his car in the U-shaped drive, stopping just shy of the front door.

"You have the place all to yourself?" I asked, looking around.

"We do, yes. Do you like it?"

I shot him a look for that. "It doesn't matter if I like it. I just came here to talk. And then leave."

He firmed his jaw and nodded, looking away.

He let us into the house silently, waving me in.

I took a few steps into the entryway and stopped. The place was bigger than I'd thought from the outside. It was also fully furnished. Well-decorated, too, with lots of grays and whites. It felt more like a private residence than a short rental.

"Do you mind if I shower before we talk?"

I shrugged. "Whatever."

"Make yourself at home. The kitchen is stocked, if you're hungry."

I realized that I was. "Just point me in the right direction."

He showed me to the kitchen and left.

I had just dished out omelet number two when he joined me again.

I sent him one glance, then looked away again. He was in a fresh pair of sweatpants, these ones black, his muscular chest deliciously bare. His hair was still wet.

I wanted to lick him, head to toe. Twice. Slowly.

Instead, I asked, "You run out of shirts?"

"Yes. Feel free to take yours off, too, to make it less awkward."

I curved my lips down to keep them from curling up, which they'd naturally tried to do.

He wasn't allowed to charm me right now. The bastard.

I handed him his plate. I could have waited to ask if he was hungry, but I hadn't seen the point. From what I recalled, he never turned down food. Like ever.

"Thank you," he said.

We sat down at a round table in the breakfast nook. It was a friendly spot, surrounded by windows. If we were there when the sun rose in a few hours, we'd likely have a killer view.

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