Page 68 of Wild Catch
“Because I do. Desperately,” he rasps out, and my hormones titter in glee until he adds, “but they’ll figure out a way to find me because that’s just how they are. I’m trying to spare you from them setting their talons on you.”
“Talons?” I whistle. “I’m starting to get the impression that you don’t like your parents very much.”
“I don’t,” he says bluntly. “Ireallydon’t.”
“Then…” I bite my lip and dare to glance at the Rose in the mirror. Her eyes are way too bright and she doesn’t stop me from saying, “I can’t leave you all alone to face them.”
“But—”
“Text me the address, Logan. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And I end the call.
CHAPTER24
LOGAN
“You’re early,” I say the second I open the door.
“And you’re, uh… underdressed,” Rose fires back, the bite steadily dropping from her voice as her eyes drift lower.
Deadpanned I say, “Yeah, because you’re twenty minutes early.”
And I know because I had it all timed. Rather than showering at the Wild facilities, I rushed home all sweaty and stinky to tidy up first and then shower before her arrival to start the operation. But I was barely done lathering up when the doorbell rang. And kept ringing. And ringing some more.
Now here she is, outside my apartment door carrying a suitcase and eating me up with her eyes.
I’m very aware that I didn’t have a chance to properly dry myself, that my hair is dripping down my naked back and chest, and that all I managed to put on was a pair of black sweatpants—and that’s it, nothing else. If she had any decency she’d look away though.
Rose doesn’t. In fact, she’s doing a second pass now, lifting her eyes slowly over my thighs to fixate on the waistband of my sweatpants.
Leaning against the doorframe, I fold my arms and ask, “Need more time? Want me to turn around?”
But this is Rosalina Mena we’re talking about, she’s absolutely nonplussed about being caught staring. “Actually, yes. I’m curious about your back tattoos.”
I almost laugh but she’s dead serious.
Shrugging, I turn around—not because I’m eager to comply, but because I’d really like to towel myself and change to dry clothes. She can stare all she wants as I head to my room.
“Ohh,” she whispers behind me in tune with her steps falling on my floor. She closes the door behind her. “I didn’t know you liked animals so much.”
I pause at my bedroom door and glance back. “What?”
“Your tats…” She wheels the suitcase all the way to the living room, pointing at me. “A massive phoenix on your chest, plus the huge tiger and horse entwined on your back.”
Ah. I’m so used to my tattoos that I even forget they’re there until someone reminds me, or I catch a glimpse in the mirror. Then everything comes full force—every single reason why I needed them in the first place.
“They’re just symbolism,” I say carefully, not trying to incite the curiosity of this journalist who would eat me alive if I let her.
“Is that so?” I can tell by the way her eyebrow rises that she knows there’s more to the brief answer, and maybe it’s my guarded body language what keeps her from outright asking. Maybe she does have some decency after all.
“Anyway, are you moving in or what?” I look pointedly at her suitcase.
“This? I just figured that if your parents are coming here first, they might be weirded out if they don’t see anything feminine at your place. And honestly, I think I had the right idea.”
Placing her hands on her hips, she takes a good look around at the stark decor. All the walls are white, while every piece of furniture I own is black. There are no trinkets and the only splashes of color are the spines of countless books on the shelves around the TV.
“This place looks very… spartan.” She presses her lips and returns her eyes to me. Or rather, to my phoenix chest tattoo. “Ironic for a guy who is covered in colors.”
I sigh. “Don’t tell me you brought a bunch of pink shit.”
