Page 18 of Scorched King

I jerked, falling out of my dancer pose and landing on my knees. Pain shot through my legs and up my back, forcing a gasp from my lips. I looked down to survey the damage and it was then I realized the situation. My tank top had worked its way free from my yoga pants and ridden up my back, exposing both the scars I didn’t want him to see and my breasts.

I shoved my shirt down and shifted back onto my heels, thanking God he was behind me and not in front of me. I didn’t need to see his face right now or him mine. I was probably three shades of red as waves of humiliation washed over me.

“I’m sorry. Shit. I can’t wear a bra yet and I didn’t realize…” I couldn’t even finish that sentence. It didn’t matter that he’d seen my tits plenty of times. This was different. And my back…

Oh God. I wasn’t ready for that.

“I don’t give a shit about that.” Ouch. That biting tone with those words stung, making my embarrassment complete. “I thought you were supposed to rest.? You’re barely out of the hospital. Is this kind of activity even approved?”

I laughed, looking over my shoulder at him finally. “Approved by who exactly? Last time I checked I was a free woman now.”

He glowered at me darkly. Normally, I might have scurried away from him after a withering look like that, but I was cooped up and embarrassed which meant I was a live wire in danger of going off at any second.

“I don’t remember your doctor’s instructions including anything about dancing half naked in my living room.”

It was my turn to scowl at him. “I wasn’t dancing, asshole. It’s called yoga and it’s exercise. And I already explained that I can’t wear a bra. Besides, I thought you were busy and I wouldn’t have to worry about anyone barging in.”

His left eyebrow lifted and his look got darker if that was possible. I’d definitely opened my mouth and stepped into it. Oh well, maybe now he would agree that I didn’t need to stay in his house. If I was in my own apartment, this kind of thing would never happen.

“Asshole, huh?”

I got the feeling he was waiting for an apology, but as far as I was concerned, he could keep on waiting.

“If the shoe fits,” I practically snarled. “I thought you were in your office working. Don’t you have better things to do than shame me for getting some exercise?”

I twisted around to roll up my makeshift yoga mat, desperate to keep myself busy before I completely lost it on him. There was a fifty/fifty chance I was going to go on a verified rant or start crying. And the last thing I wanted to do was explain to JD that my emotions were all over the map since the incident.

He squatted down in front of me. “I wasn’t trying to shame you. Finding you like this,” he hesitated. “Startled me. I was concerned you were pushing yourself too hard. I thought you would be resting today. That’s why I kept quiet and stayed in my office as long as I did.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “I got bored, okay? I’m not used to this much quiet. I thought leaving the hospital would provide a nice peaceful respite, but then the next thing I knew I was crawling out of my skin.”

“You could have come and knocked on my door.”

I shook my head. “No.It’s not your job to entertain me.”

He smiled. “That may be true, but maybe I could arrange a play date for you. Should I call Bear?”

My eyes narrowed, hoping like hell he wasn’t serious. It was hard to tell with him. He never seemed to have much of a sense of humor. If anyone took life too seriously, it seemed to be him. “I refer you to my previous statement.” I thought better about actually calling him an asshole again, but I’m sure he got the idea.

“Okay, fair enough,” he said, rising to his feet. “How about food then? Have you eaten anything today?”

“Not since yesterday.”

“Why the hell not?”

Again, I wasn’t going to say anything derogatory. He might have told me to make myself at home, but this was his house not mine. I was never going to get that comfortable here. “Hadn’t really thought about it.” I didn’t want to say it, but I’d gotten soused to someone bringing all my meals it never even occurred to me to eat on my own.

Even when I ate non-hospital food it was because Patty or one of the other girls brought it to me. Including the premade margaritas they snuck in with the Mexican food for our in-hospital girls’ nights.

“Well, I’m going to see what can be brought up from the clubhouse for us. I’m sure they’re cooking down there and from now on I’ll make sure someone brings you meals up here.”

“You don’t have to do that. If you want me to cook, I can do it. I just don’t want to make any assumptions about my position here. It’s not my kitchen.”

He ignored me and walked into his kitchen as I watched his backside. Looking at his body, I wondered about his exercise routine. The clubhouse had a pretty extensive gym, but I didn’t get to spend a lot of time down there. Most of the time it was off limits to nonmembers except during meals or parties. But even then, only certain areas were open.

It always gave me the idea that they had a lot to hide if they didn’t even allow employees full use of the building. Even kitchen time had to be pre-approved or scheduled.

I scrambled to my feet, tucked in my shirt extra deep so it wouldn’t work free again, and then wrapped my towel around my neck so it draped across my front. Being a mid-size girl on her way to plus size meant my breasts were on the bigger side, and going without a bra seemed rather obvious. Not that it had ever seemed a big deal before. The man owned a strip club for Christ’s sake. I didn’t have anything he hadn’t seen a million other times. It should be no big deal.

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