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I watched Parker as he came into the house behind me, already headed back to my bedroom. I couldn’t deny that he was gorgeous, with the kind of wind-swept hair and sun-kissed skin that only existed in magazines with world-famous models on the cover. But his kind of beautiful was still somehow down-to-earth, like the boy next door who doesn’t know that they could be on magazine covers to begin with.

It was an easy kind of beautiful, natural.

The kind of beautiful that a part of me wanted to reach out and touch?—

“Where are you going to sleep?”

“What?” Parker’s question knocked me right back down to reality, thoughts of magazine covers and reaching out to touch him quickly disappearing. “What do you mean?”

“There’s only one bed in this place, right?” Parker asked. “I didn’t realize that when I was first here. Probably because I was recovering from all that smoke being in my lungs.”

“Oh. Right.” I casually crossed my arms against my chest. “Don’t worry about it. I can just sleep on the couch.”

“No. You won’t.” Parker let out a laugh. “As in, you literally won’t. If you’re talking about the couch in the living room, it’s way too small for you, Nicholas. Just take your bed?—”

“Or we could just share the bed? Head to feet?” I suggested. “We could stay spaced out, too. Opposite ends.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.” I offered him a small smile. “This kind of thing happens sometimes down at the station, too many bodies, not enough beds. But I think we can make it through the ordeal since we’ll both be adults about it. It doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

“No big deal. Got it.” Parker winked before he headed back down the hall, even though there was something hesitant in his tone. “We’ll both just be adults about it.”

3

PARKER

I couldn’t be an adult about it.

I’d spent the night tossing and turning, half-awake, half-staring at Nicholas’ sleeping form. It turned out that he was one of those guys who slept shirtless, which meant I had the perfect view of his broad chest and muscular arms, his perfect frame casually on display. It was torture every time I tried to close my eyes, memories of his muscles dancing right behind my eyelids, daring me not to open them and sneak another peek.

And how could I not sneak another peek?

I didn’t know when this had happened, me becoming this attracted to Nicholas. I could’ve sworn that back at the bar I wasn’t sensing anything more than maybe a burgeoning friendship, back when I was downing whiskey sours and attempting to drown myself in my own self-pity. But then…

The almost car accident.

There was something in his eyes, the way the first thing he wanted to do was make sure that I was okay, even though he barely knew me. Something shifted, and while it was entirely possible that he was just doing his job and making sure I was okay, I couldn’t deny that it had an effect on me. An effect that was making it impossible to sleep, guaranteeing that I was going to be groggy as hell in the morning?—

Fuck.

Was it morning already?

I pretended to be asleep as Nicholas shifted away from the bed, rolling out of it with the grace of a goddamn trained acrobat. Despite his size, his movements were light and controlled, no sense of lumbering to be found. It was almost like he practiced them, like he never wanted to be mistaken for someone careless, a human wrecking ball with the capacity to cause pain.

A few seconds later, he was out of the room and down the hall, his movements still just as limber and lithe.

Just as controlled.

Hmm.

I sat up in bed, grateful to let go of the sleeping charade. I soon joined Nicholas in the kitchen, where I figured he was after smelling the distinct scent of bacon wafting down the hallway. I took a moment to look around the room, noting that it was just as neat as his bedroom, nothing seemingly out of place. It reminded me of something out of a catalog devoted to show homes, untouched by people, unlived and inexperienced.

My stomach sank a little at the realization, wondering how few people had passed through Nicholas’ home, how alone he must be up here all the time?—

Wait.

Why do I care?

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