Page 68 of The Haunting of Lockton
“I’m sorry,” I said, my throat tight. “I should’ve stayed with you.”
“No, you shouldn’t have. Taking care of me isn’t your responsibility. I’m an adult, Sky. Besides, Paxton needed you.” There was a pause. “I think you needed him too.”
“Youneeded me.”
“I was fine,” he said in a lighter tone. “Taylor bought us junk food from the 24-hour convenience store, and we pigged out and watched Netflix until we passed out. It was a fun night.”
Some of my guilt lifted. He really did sound okay. But a pressure balled in my chest as I realized I wasn’t the only one who’d met someone pretty damn awesome in Ivy Grove. Someone who would be missed once we left.
“How’s Paxton?” he asked.
“Don’t know. He woke up before me, so I haven’t seen him yet.” I stepped away from the window and over toward the closed bedroom door. “He was fine last night though. Better than fine. Orgasmic bliss.”
“Gross. Stop talking.”
I snickered. “I’ll see you later.”
“Okay,” he said. “No rush coming back. Taylor’s here if I need to go anywhere.”
After disconnecting the call, I left the room and searched for the bathroom. My bladder was about to explode. Once business was taken care of, I washed up as best as I could without having clean clothes to change into, hoping Paxton didn’t mind me using his deodorant. Then, I found the stairs and took them two at a time down to the first floor.
An archway to the left led into what looked like the living room. A short hallway was straight ahead, with natural light at the end. A soft clank sounded, like someone placing a dish on the counter. It was also where the coffee trail led, so I headed in that direction.
Mumbled voices came from the kitchen.
I came to a sharp stop.
At first, I assumed Paxton was talking on the phone, but then I heard a second voice. It was deeper than his with a gravelly quality. I only caught fragments of his words.
“Are you working today?” the unknown guy asked.
“It’s my day off,” Paxton responded.
Did someone live with him? Surely he would’ve told me, if so. Maybe it was thefriendhe’d had breakfast plans with that one morning when we’d set up a meeting to discuss the Lockton tour. The non-date he’d been kind of tight-lipped about.
After taking a deep breath to prepare myself for what was sure to be some fucking hot guy to go along with that sexy-ass gravelly voice, I rounded the corner. “Morning.”
Paxton startled, and coffee sloshed over the rim of his mug and dribbled to the floor. “Oh. Good morning.”
He stood with his back against the counter, wearing navy blue sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt. His dark auburn hair was adorably messy.
And he was alone.
Confused, I glanced around the kitchen for the mysterious dude, seeing no signs of him. No second mug on the counter suggesting they’d had coffee together or any plates. Maybe he just so happened to leave the kitchen right when I walked in? There was an open doorway that led into another room, so it was possible.
“Who were you talking to?” I asked.
Paxton’s eyes widened a fraction before he averted his gaze to the drops of spilled coffee and found a rag to clean it. “I was talking to… myself.”
“Really?” I stepped farther into the kitchen and approached him. He tossed the rag aside and rose back up to face me. “I could’ve sworn I heard two voices.”
Had I been mistaken?
“Hmm. Interesting.” He flashed a smile and motioned to the coffeepot. “I just drank the last of it, but I can make more.”
“Sure,” I answered, noting the tightness of that smile. “Thanks.”
He was nervous. Why?
