Page 52 of So Bad It Must Be Good

He turned, pulling her next to him as he nuzzled into her neck. “There was nothing not good luck about that.”

“You know, if you have to go fast again so you won’t be late, you can always leave me your key again and come pick it up after work.”

“Are you trying to lure me to your apartment and have your dirty way with me?”

“Oh, yes. One hundred percent.”

He grinned against her neck and tried to come to grips with how happy he felt. When was the last time he’d let himself have that? This deeply. This much just his. He thought it had to have been before Dad’s heart attack, if that.

There were things a guy who was better with words could say to her to show her that, but he didn’t have them. He had only himself, and he could only hope that would be good enough.

“I do actually have to get going. Dad wanted to have coffee before our first call.”

“Go have coffee with your dad. And then I’ll see you tonight?”

He nodded, forcing himself to get out of bed and head for the bathroom. He ran through the shower and got dressed for the day. He was running a little bit late, but hopefully Dad wouldn’t mind if they rescheduled the coffee.

When he got back out of the bathroom, Kayla was still curled up in his bed. She was typing something into her phone. She smiled over at him.

“I was just teasing about me staying here while you go. It’s probably weird having me in your house alone, and—”

He cut her off by placing his mouth on hers and kissing her. When he pulled away, she grinned at him.

He hurried to the kitchen and pulled his house key off his key ring and went back to the bedroom to hand it to her. Still naked in his bed. No, it somehow wasn’t weird at all to leave her here. It was something like perfect.

“Stay. Make yourself at home. Eat my food, drink my coffee. Good luck at your interview. I expect to hear all about it tonight. At your place.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

He indulged in one last kiss, groaning as he forced himself to end it and walk out the bedroom. He had work, no matter how much he’d rather play hooky.

And wasn’t that damn weird? No matter whom he’d been seeing or sleeping with, he’d never been all too interested in giving up work for time spent with them.

He drove to his parents’ house, belatedly realizing he’d forgotten breakfast or coffee, so high he’d been on sex and Kayla. He glanced at his clock, wondering if he and Dad would have time to grab something before they went over to fix Mrs. Washington’s unhinged door.

But as he walked into his parents’ house, happy and content, it all disappeared in an instant when he entered the kitchen to find his parents sitting at the kitchen table, hand in hand, looking all too grave.

“What is it?” Liam asked.

Mom had tears in her eyes, but Dad was the one who spoke. “Sit, son. We have to talk.”

Which could not in any way, shape, or form be good.

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