Page 104 of Worst Nanny Ever
My heart racing, I run my hands through my hair, then lookaround for a T-shirt I can throw on and find nothing but my dirty polo shirt from last night on the floor.
Ollie’s standing beside the bed expectantly, waiting for my answer. I don’t want to walk out half naked while there’s a woman in my bed, pillow barrier or not, so I stay put. “She doesn’t live here, Ollie. She just stayed over last night because I wasn’t feeling well. She was helping us out.”
“Okay,” he says, seeming to accept my answer at face value. “It’s a little late, though. Don’t you think we should be starting our day?”
I glance at the wall, cursing in my head when I see it’s already ten thirty.
“Yeah, I’m sorry, buddy. Did you have breakfast?”
He rolls his eyes. “I can pour myself cereal, Travis. I’m not a baby.”
“Never doubted it.”
“Want me to pour some for you?”
I don’t want to eat anything, possibly ever again, but it’s one of the first things he’s ever offered to do for me, and I’m not about to deny him. Maybe Hannah will want to eat it.
“Yeah, that would be great. Thanks.”
He leaves the room, and I shuffle over to the dresser, feeling ten years older than I did last night, to grab a clean T-shirt and athletic shorts. I tug them on, then head into the en suite to brush my teeth.
If Hannah’s going to tell me off for being a presumptuous prick, I’d prefer to have clean teeth for it.
She must sleep like the dead, though, because she’s still out cold when I sit down on her side of the bed.
My heart thumps painfully in my chest as I look at her. She’s so beautiful. She must have gotten up and washed her face at some point in the night because her eyelashes are that gorgeousred-gold color again. I stroke her cheek, and instead of sucker punching me, like I half expect her to, she stirs and makes a sound that’s half murmur and half sigh, which shoots straight to my cock.
She’s not yours.
But I’m ready to admit that I’d like her to be.
I’ve never wanted anyone like I want her. She’s funny, bold, and very opinionated. I want to hear all of her opinions. I want to argue with them because I know she loves arguing back. I want to fuck her, but I also want to talk to her, dance with her, and play music with her—and I know that’s more dangerous. If it were just about sex, I could sleep with someone else, but the thought of doing that is as repellant as running a cheese grater over my dick.
“Hannah,” I whisper, needing to ensure I won’t be overheard. “Hannah, I’m sorry about last night.”
Her eyes open slowly, their vivid green sucking me in.
“Sometimes you sound like a broken record. What exactly are you sorry for this time?”
I gesture to the stupid pillow barrier. “Did you do that because I was being inappropriate?”
She smiles at me. “You don’t remember?”
“Obviously not.”
“I feel like I should lord this over you for at least a day, but no, you weren’t being inappropriate. You were just worried you might be tempted, because I made a…colorful comment. Sorry about that.”
“I wish I could remember.”
“Probably best if I don’t repeat it now that the pillow barrier is no longer between us.”
Now Ireallywish I could remember. But I’m also glad that I don’t, because I’m sure I made an ass of myself.
“It’s past ten,” I mutter.
“Are you asking me to leave?” she asks playfully.
“I mean, you’ve been working for over twenty hours.”
