Page 26 of Bound to You

I finally snuggle into my gigantic soft bed, my form like a sardine tucked into the plush covers. I swear this is like aroyal king bed—there’s endless space for probably another three people to sleep next to me. I try to quiet my mind and focus on the soft pillow beneath my head, but my mind won’t shut up, and it’s so fucking hot.

I throw the puffy comforter off my body leaving just the sheet, which rustles every ten seconds as I toss and turn, replaying my conversation with Marina from earlier. I just don’t know if it’s that easy, to just let go. I already feel out of control, how will I feel if I fully let go of the reins? But maybe that’s what I need, to just give in to the experience, and not worry too much about the outcome.

Who am I kidding? Worry is my middle name.

chapter ten

CAIO

Marvin prowlsaround the balcony that leads off of my living room. I click my fingers at him through the open doors.

“Come on, Marv.” The shit disturber never comes over when I’m here. I’m the one leaving him food, but does he show me any gratitude? No. He just wolfs down all the biscuits I leave for him when I’mnotaround.

I give up and put the box of food back on the counter before making myself a coffee.

Double shot. I slept like a rock last night, but still managed to wake up with a pounding headache. It feels like I got socked in the head with a baseball bat.

I was working late last night, trying to catch up on some of the work that’s slipped away from me in the time I’ve spent doing anything but my job the last few days, like spending time with a certain brunette. But Rafael interrupted those plans when he showed up with a bottle of whiskey and a frown on his face. I couldn’t turn him away, but on second thought, maybe I should’ve picked a lighter drink.

I flop onto the couch with my coffee and reach for the tv remote. I need to watch some mindless shit to distract my brainfrom the fact that it feels like it’s knocking around up there. God, I haven’t had a hangover this bad in years. I also haven’t drunk that much in years. For so long, I was so focused on this business that I just didn’t have the time to let loose. No matter how many times Marina tried to haul my ass down to the bar for karaoke nights, I didn’t have time. I didn’tmakethe time. Sometimes I think about all that I’ve missed over the years. Now that this place is established, I let them drag me out every so often. At twenty-eight you’d think my body would be better equipped to handle a drink, but apparently not after downing the entire bottle Raf brought over.

A buzz on my intercom interrupts my channel surfing. Whoever is pushing the button doesn’t understand that they’re supposed to speak when they press it down.

I wander over to the speaker to hear a little better. “Wha—“ “Fucki—“ “Wrong with this thing?” Isla’s frustrated voice cuts in and out of the speaker. Shaking my head, I smile to myself and press the button to let her up.

I’m sitting on a stool with my legs under the kitchen counter when she finally walks in. Her eyes take in her surroundings like she’s in heaven.

She walks slowly with careful feet and keeps her hands tucked at her sides, as if to make sure she doesn’t reach out and touch anything. She looks like a kid at a museum. She’s so enraptured in the space that she hasn’t even noticed me yet.

“Hey.”

“Holy shit!” She jumps as she turns to see me in the kitchen, her hand flying to her chest. “Oh my god, you gave me a fright.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you not expect me to be here? In my house?” I tease.

“No, well, I did, but I thought you’d be at the door waiting to see who it was or something.” She’s still catching her breath, trying to play it cool. But even as she puts her hands on her hips,I see the way she’s flustered, and an evil part of me enjoys the shit out of it.

“Why? I knew it was you.” She frowns at me, cocking her head to the side in obvious confusion. “I heard you on the intercom.”

“The intercom?”

I rest my chin in my hand as I watch the realization on her face.

“The buzzer thing?” she asks, her eyes widening at the same time that her nostrils flare.

“Yeah, the buzzer thing. But it’s cool. Once you buzzed about three times, I could understand your language as clear as day.” I can’t help the way my lips curve up at the edges as a flush creeps up her cheeks. That might be my new favorite thing.

“Coffee?” I ask, letting her off.

“Please,” she responds. I start making her one on my fancy espresso machine. It’s not a necessity, but I hate instant coffee, so it’s a necessity for me.

She wanders around the open-plan kitchen and living space while she waits.

“Why don’t you have a dining table?” she asks suddenly.

“I never really needed one, and the couch works just fine.” That one’s not so much a necessity to me. I keep my attention on the coffee in front of me. I try my best to do a little flower design on the top like the barista that I am far from being. It looks more like a distorted squiggle by the time I’ve walked it over to her.

My stomach dips as I see Isla standing at the side table with all of my picture frames on it. “Is this your family?” She picks up the black frame that has a photo of the three of us when I was a young boy. The photo I keep at the back of the stack. I don’t like to look at it too much, but I can't bring myself to put it away either.

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