Page 59 of Catch Me When I Fall

“W-what are you doing here?”

Again, he said nothing.

I was beginning to wonder if I was actually insane, but then I remembered that less than ten seconds ago, I was standing in this very spot…naked. My cheeks heated as wetness pooled at my core, my body clearly enjoying his presence—again.

“Bounty hunter?” I called again.

I wished he would tell me his name. I’d give anything to know his name.

He leaned forward, just like last time in my living room almost a month ago. And just like last time, I was taken aback by his dark beauty, from his dark eyes to his scar that disappeared into his beard. My eyes flicked back up to his eyes, instantly seeing a fire within them. Then I noticed the anger radiating from his body, and my stomach flipped.

“Please say something,” I begged. “You’re freaking me out.”

A low sound came from him as he continued to glare at me.

I took a step away from the dresser. “How long have you been in here?” I asked, trying a different approach.

He said nothing.

Sighing, I shook my head and threw my hands up. “Alright, Mr. Silent Bounty Hunter. Whatever,” I said, walking to the bathroom. “Don’t say shit to me. That’s fine, but I have to put product in my hair or I’ll look like a wild banshee in the morning. So make yourself at home or disappear. I don’t care.”

I did care.

I cared very much.

I wanted him to make himself at home.

Once in the bathroom, I pulled out my hair products and began working them into my curls. While I was in rehab, they didn’t give me much, clearly not giving a fuck about my hair health. My curls became dry, unhealthy, and brittle. Now, I was trying to stick to healthy curl routine, but that was proving to be difficult at the moment due to the man in my bedroom.

My hands trembled as I tried to control my breathing, staring into the mirror. I was flushed.

How pathetic was that?

I bit the inside of my cheek.

He saw me naked. Not just a little bit of me…all of me.

I looked down at myself, taking in the shorts and cute silk top. The PJs were cream with little strawberries dotted all over them, and when I purchased them, I certainly wasn’t thinking about what a man might think of them. Shaking it off, I looked back in the mirror, right into my blue eyes.

You got this.

He isn’t here to hurt you.

He’s just…here.

I put up the products, lifted my chin, and walked back into my bedroom.

He was still there, sitting on the window seat, leaning forward, his hands hanging between his knees. I stared at the white and red tattoos on his hands as I whispered, “Those are pretty.”

When I looked at his face, a muscle jumped in his cheek, and that’s when I noticed his short beard was longer than the last time I’d seen him. His eyes flashed again, his nostrils flaring, and I felt my knees go weak. Blinking, I cleared my throat and moved toward the bed.

“Come here.”

My head snapped up at the sound of his deep voice, my body halting two feet from my favorite place in the world. “What?” I rasped.

“You heard me,” he replied, holding my gaze.

Yeah, I was having a heart attack tonight.

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