Page 18 of To Build a Home
Once she is out of view, I carefully clean up down here—putting away leftovers, taking out the trash, and verifying the locks. I even give the mat that Gabby was lying on a wipe down. I don’t know if it’s possible to take that thing apart and wash it, but because “blowout” keeps running through my head, I decide it needs at least sanitizing.
After browsing through my messages, I find a confirmation of a delivery of ingredients by Terri for tomorrow at eight. It gives me time to do what I need and prep before we open at four. Since I was busy today and couldn’t go to the market, I contacted Terri yesterday to ask about his available ingredients and how to incorporate them into the menu.
My third yawn tells me it’s time to take my own advice and turn in for the night. I can’t avoid going upstairs any longer.Is that what I’m doing—avoiding?No, I just don’t want to make it seem like I’m crowding her at all, so I gave her plenty of time to do whatever she needed to upstairs.
When I reach the top of the stairs, something inside me calls to her door. It’s closed. It’s bad enough I’m standing outside her door, but I contemplate knocking to see if she needs anything. I press my ear to the door but can’t hear anything. She might have already fallen asleep.
Just leave her alone, man. Don’t make it even more awkward on their first night here.
God, what was I thinking, almost kissing her down there earlier? What if we hadn’t been interrupted? Just the thought of my lips pressed to hers has my dick stirring in my shorts.Fuck.
Forcing myself away from her bedroom door, I pray that the more distance I put between us, the less tense I’ll be. But as I lock myself in the bathroom, I realize that is far from the truth. The bathroom smells of lavender.
In the shower, I find a little pink plastic tub with a mesh liner covered in flowers. This must be what Gabby gets bathed in. I carefully lift it out of the tub and drain the few remaining droplets of water leftover from her bath before placing it on the floor.
Noticing my bodywash is empty, I go over to the vanity to grab a fresh bottle. I open the top drawer. Shit, I forgot I had cleared out the top two drawers for Payton. Various products line the drawer, which I wouldn’t even have a clue about what they are for. I expected to find products all thrown everywhere. At least, that’s the way Ollie is always describing his and Hollie’s bathroom.“Her shit is everywhere, man, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”What do I know, though—I’ve never lived with a woman before. I have no idea what to expect.
I grab a bottle of lotion and flip the cap before lifting it to my nose. The deep inhale fills my senses with coconut and sunshine.It’s as if Payton is in here with me.And there’s the wake-up call for my dick again.
This is wrong on so many levels. Payton and her daughter are just down the hall, hopefully sound asleep. They live here now.
Yet none of that matters. I tell myselfjust this once,as I turn on the shower and wrap my hand around my shaft, giving it a firm squeeze.
Just this once.
Chapter 11
Payton
Ipeek over the railing of Gabby’s crib and smile to find her still sound asleep. Her hands are both raised above her head, reminding me of a football post. She’s adjusted perfectly to our new living arrangements—unlike me. The first night, I was exhausted and fell right to sleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. But the next night, and just about every night after, not even the exhaustion of working after my shifts could help me pass out.
Constant thoughts of the man living just down the hall run rampant in my mind. Although I guess what he said the day we moved in was true—he’s never home. Each night when I leave Tilley’s after my shift, he stays and does whatever he does at night.
Does he hang around Tilley’s to help my brother behind the bar?
Does he go somewhere and meet someone? Jealousy floods through my veins, but I don’t know why—it’s not like he’s mine. He’s my roommate, my brother’s best friend, my coworker—off-limits.
But fuck, the moment the other night prior to Gabby’s explosive asshole, I swear he was going to kiss me. Was I so sleep-deprived that I imagined it? Maybe I had misread the entire situation and made it awkward, hence him avoiding me.
With Gabby still sound asleep, I decide to take advantage of the moment and go make coffee and get her bottle ready. This girl takes after her mama by typically waking up hangry. And if you’ve ever tried to fix a bottle one-handed while holding a hangry, upset baby in the other, ten out of ten do not recommend it.
Slowly, I open my bedroom door. The house is completely silent. I leave my door open so I can hear if she wakes up.
I can’t stop myself from glancing over at Rhyland’s bedroom door. It’s closed now, so he must be home. When Gabby and I were up at two thirty this morning, it was still open.
Each step I take is quick but calculated. I don’t want to make too much noise to disturb either of the sleeping residents upstairs.
I push up on my toes and press my palm onto the counter, trying to reach for a coffee mug.
“Ugh, motherfucker,” I groan under my breath as my fingers graze the mug. “Almost got it.” Who keeps mugs on the second shelf, anyway?
“Good morning,” a husky voice says from behind me, causing me to jump, but of course, my fingers push the mug back further.Fuck me.
I spin to find Rhyland shuffling into the kitchen, shirtless, with his joggers hanging low on his hips and his dark hair in disarray. Holy fuck, is there any version of Rhyland Cole that isnot melting-your-panties-off hot? No, I don’t think there is. That man could probably even make being covered in horse manure look sexy.
I spin my back to him so I can focus and get what I need to escape the kitchen. With all my might, I push up on my toes again, determined to reach the mug.
“Here, let me help you.”
