Page 30 of My Totally Unfair Deal

Steam clings to my skin as I step out, sling a towel around my waist, and rub a hand through my hair while walking toward the kitchen?—

Only to find the object of my avoidance already standing there.

She’s barefoot, wearing one of my T-shirts and briefs, sipping coffee from one of my mugs.

“What was the point of me rushing to get your luggage if you were going to keep wearing my clothes?”

“I like the way the fabric feels against my skin,” she says. “Would you like me to give them back?”

“No, I would?—”

I catch her gaze lowering to the towel around my waist.

“Want me to take it off?”

“No.” She blushes. “I’d actually prefer it if you wore clothes around the house.”

“It’s my house.”

“That you’re avoiding every night for whatever strange reason.” She shrugs, confirming that she’s noticed. “I think keeping your clothes on would be showing your guest good manners.”

“My guest is still insulting me over morning coffee,” I say. “I don’t think she’s in any position to make any etiquette requests.”

“Okay fine then.”

She grabs the hem of her shirt and pulls it over her head, revealing a black bra.

“I’ll walk around half-naked, too.”

“That’d be more than fine with me.”

“Let me call my brother and see if that’s fine with him, too.”

“You win.” I don’t even want to continue that line of conversation. “I’ll wear clothes when I come here.”

“Is there a reason why you’re leaving every night?”

“Yes. Does it bother you having the penthouse to yourself?”

The look on her face makes me regret asking that question.

“I’ll stay here, Eliza.”

“Thank you.”

I make myself a cup of coffee and retreat to the bathroom.

This time, the shower is cold as ice.

The rest of these weeks need to hurry up and fly by.

Later that night

Plop... Plop... Plop!

At this rate, Eliza might break the all-time face-plant record before her first week is over.

I’m starting to think I might need to revise my original promise to Jackson—because this shit is already ten times harder than I thought.

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