Page 64 of Why Not Us?

I snuggle into him, and he wraps his arm around me, holding me close. “I could eat.” I look up at him. “Do you have to go after, or will you stay?”

“Do you want me to stay?” His stormy grey eyes search mine and I swallow hard.

“I do.”

“Then I will,” he says, kissing me again. “For as long as you want, princess.”

Chapter 20

Nate

Iwake to the sound of my phone ringing. Adalie groans and flips the pillow over her face, curling up into a ball. I sit up, fishing the device from my pants pocket.

Taylor is calling.

“Hey,” I say, reclining against the headboard. Adalie snuggles closer, her head sandwiched between my chest and her pillow. I wrap an arm around her, stroking my fingers along her back.

“Where the fuck are you?”

“Is something wrong?” I ask, alarmed at his worry.

“Yes. My brother didn’t come home last night. You’d better not have gotten into a wreck.”

“I didn’t. I’m fine.”

“Then where are you? I wake up this morning and your bike isn’t here. Why didn’t you come home?”

“Just a sec.” I mute the phone and lift the corner of the pillow. “Taylor wants to know where I am. What do you want me to tell him?”

“Whatever you want,” she mumbles against my chest. “I’m sleeping. Tell him he’s an asshole for waking me up.”

I smile and unmute my phone. “I stayed over at someone’s house last night. I’m still here and she’s pissed you woke her up.”

Taylor doesn’t respond right away. Then he says, “You never spend the night.”

I glance down at Adalie curled against me. With the pillow over her head, I don’t think she can hear Taylor’s side of the conversation. He’s right, though. I don’t stay at women’s houses. I like my bed. I like my privacy. I like my space.

“I know,” I say.

“Okay. Well. Next time you decide to spend the night at your girlfriend’s house, let me know so I don’t freak out.”

“She’s not—”

“Tell Adalie I’m sorry I woke her.”

He hangs up without saying goodbye. Dickhead.

I drop my phone to the floor and lift the corner of the pillow.

“Taylor says hi.”

She peeks out from under the fabric, her green eyes bleary with sleep. “I don’t like him anymore. What time is it?”

“6am. I’m going to have to go soon. I have to get to work. Don’t you?”

She shakes her head. “I usually get Sundays and Mondays off in the summer. Depending on what’s going on. It may not be summer yet, but wedding season has started. How long do you have before you need to leave? Do you want to shower or have something to eat?”

“I have a little time. About an hour. I mean, I’m the boss, so I can be a bit late.”

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