Page 18 of Stirred Up

“You in your car?” Brady leans in and asks, pushing me to the door by my back as I nod.

I pull my keys out and he snares them immediately. “Good, my car’s still at work and I only had one drink. I’ll drive.”

****

We laugh the entire trip to my place, completely sure no one would believe us if we told them about our night—which we won’t.

“You should probably pick your own dates from now on.” I snicker at him.

“Yours too apparently. The janitor? You could do so much better, Moe.”

“Not everyone’s a doctor, Snobby Butt. Being a janitor’s the least of my concerns. His pervy comments,muchbigger problem.”

“Fine, pick a reason. You could do better. And that fucking hand of his was a little too friendly for my taste. I was about to teach him some respect.”

I have no words, I can only stare at him, jaw dropped. Brady’s always been a bit hard on the guys I bring around, but he’s never suggested violence before. Both of us out ofsorts, it doesn’t register, until parked atmyhouse...that we’re inmycar.

“We should talk, brilliant duo and all.” I laugh and he joins in. “No way I feel like driving all the way to your house then back.”

He curtly shakes his head. “Wouldn’t let ya anyway, I saw you throw back the drinks. I’ll drive home and pick you up in the morning to hit the gym, then you can drop me at work. Cool?”

“Fine,” I easily concede, seeing as he’s used my car a million times before. “Why’s your car still there anyway? They picked you up?”

“Yeah, Dylan andthe dates.”

“Andwhichone was your date again?” I bite back my snicker, unable to resist giving him hell.

Stifling a chuckle of his own, he tilts his head and ponders. “I have absolutely no idea.”

“I figured. Okay then, great night. See ya in the morning.” I smile and climb out, jerking back a bit in shock at how fast he’s standing in front of me. “What’re you doing?”

“It’s late. I’m walking you to your door. Plus, I need touse your bathroom.” He admits sheepishly, busted on the pseudo-chivalry.

The walk to my apartment is nothing new or special but there’ssomethingdifferent tonight. No, I refuse to over analyze it. The man has pissed in my bathroom more than anyone besides myself. Nothing strange going on. Nothing at all.

The second I have the front door open, Brady flies past me down the hall and I mosey to my bedroom to change. “Lock it when you leave,” I holler.

“Huh?”

I jump, holding my nightshirt in front of me when his head pops in. “I said, lock up when you leave.”

“Of course.” He turns to go, peering back with a devilish twist to his lips. “By the way, when’d you open a drugstore? Lotta girly shit in there for only one girl.” He winks and heads out. “Night, Moe, sweet dreams.”

I hide my face in my hands even though he’s gone and can’t see me.

My bathroom, shopping spree, productpalooza....

He saw.

Chapter 7

Incessant ringing wakes me—as though Monday mornings aren’t dismal enough on their own—the shrill noise piercing my brain no matter how many times I reach out through the sleepy fog and slap the damn thing.

Probably because it’s not my alarm.

Groggily, I fumble around, following the noise of my phone. When I see the name flashing, I’m wide awake—my brother? What’s going on with him lately? First his early appearance at the gym, of all places, and now this. Dylan has never been up before noon in his life but suddenly he’s pulled it off twice in one week. I’m officially worried.Something must be wrong to rouse him this early.

“Dylan, what is it? Oh God,” I choke through the panic, “are you okay?”

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