I slam the lid down on the trashcan. “Make yourself one.”
“Good morning,” Claire sings out, entering the room.
We both turn to glare at her.
She glances between us. “Or not. It’s too early for you two to be at each other.”
She eyes me, and I know she has questions about last night. Hopefully, she’ll leave well enough alone though.
“It’s never too early,” I reply, stepping toward the archway leading away from the two of them.
“Bec,” he calls after me.
Twisting around in anger, I give him a look that would scare most people, but he just blows me a kiss. Claire is digging around in the fridge, oblivious. I flip him off and storm away, his laughter warming my heart more than is healthy.
I’m distracted and run straight into E. His arms move to steady me and I jump away. His face hardens at the action.
“We leave in a few hours. Be ready,” he states coldly, stepping to the side. “We’ll talk about what happened last night later,” he adds.
“It’s none of your concern. It won’t affect my performance, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Not bothering to wait for his reply, I rush up the stairs to my room, shut the door behind me, and lean against it.
What the hell have I gotten myself into? This is insanity at its finest.
* * *
“Damn zipper,” I mumble as I stretch to pull it the rest of the way up. “Ugh.” Swinging my hands forward, I lean on the bathroom sink.
A booming knock on the door causes me to jump.
“Time to get moving,” Andre yells through the wood.
Breathing out, I clean the sink before replying, “I need a sec.”
I barely have the words out when he twists the handle and steps into the small space.
“I didn’t realize I said come in,” I snap, throwing the paper towel in the trash bin. At least the sink looks better.
“You’re cleaning?” he asks, as if this is a whole new concept for him.
“Yes.” I try to come up with something snarky to add, but nothing comes to mind. My fingertips tap against the sink while I try to find something else to clean in this small space.
“You must be freaking out. Cleaning is one of your tells.”
“Oh really? What are my others?” I bite out.
He laughs. “I can’t tell you that.”
“Or you’d have to kill me?”
“Something like that.”
“Since you’re here, you might as well be useful. Zip me the rest of the way.” I turn my back to him and wait.
His hands rest against my back for a moment, and my breath hitches at the slight touch. I don’t dare look in the mirror. His fingertips dance over the space that’s unzipped, and for a moment, I wish he would unzip the dress the rest of the way.
That thought passes as he pulls the zipper up. Now his hands rest against the fabric that separates us. I close my eyes and enjoy his simple touch.