Page 44 of Irresistibly Risky

He considers this. “I’ll only take them if you come over tonight with Mason. I want both of you to sleep at my place.”

I slip my fingers out of his grasp, and his hand falls to the bed. “Asher, this isn’t grade school. I’m not having a sleepover at your place.”

“You’re moving in with me, and it’s my first night after surgery. Come on. Please, Dr. Hathaway,” he pleads like a lost puppy dog. “I need you.”

“You don’t have anything set up there.”

“Please. I want to see him, and I want you there with me tonight.”

The way this man says please and its resulting effect on me is nothing short of diabolical.

“Fine,” I relent, hating how quickly I did that. “We’ll come over this evening around five. I’ll need to give him dinner and a bath.”

“Great.” A smile curls up his lips. “Bring as much stuff as you can because I might not let you go after tonight.”

“I don’t plan on making the choice yours.” I step back from his bed as the nurse comes in to give him his medicine. “I’ll see you later, Mr. Reyes. Get some rest.”

I don’t wait for him to say anything else. I leave, and I leave quickly. He talked about a slippery slope. I have a bad feeling I’m about to learn exactly what that means.

12

“Do you think it’s too much?” I ask Lenox as we both take in one of the guest rooms.

He grunts and I turn to him. He’s only in town for a few hours—my guess is he’s visiting Suzie’s grave—but since he loves me, he came over to check on me. And bring me barbeque, because again, he loves me.

“Really? I think it’s nice. I think she’ll like it.”

A shrug this time. “Callan said she’s a spitfire.”

When I woke from my nap, I found Callan and Lenox talking about Wynter. Cal told me she played Central Square during my entire surgery and that she was fucking brilliant to watch. If he weren’t in love with Layla, I’d be worried.

“You think it’s too subdued for her?”

Another shrug.

“You’re no help,” I admonish, suddenly nervous he could be right. “What do you know about women?”

This time I get a challenging raised eyebrow, and yeah, he has a point.

“Fine. I guess I don’t know much either. I’ve never lived with anyone except you assholes on that tour bus. The last girlfriend I had was…” I pause. Think. Glance back over at him as if he’ll send me a lifeline and jog my memory.

“Meredith.”

“No.” My good hand meets my hip, and then my face scrunches up. “For real?”

He nods.

“That was like…”

“Three years ago. And you only dated her for a few months.”

“Damn.” My eyebrows hit my hairline in surprise, and I turn back to the room. “Well, shit. Do you think I should have let her decorate it herself? I was worried she never would because she’s planning to jump ship after the season is over, and I hated the idea of her sleeping in an all-white room, which is what it was before.” I make a displeased noise in the back of my throat. “Then again, I hate the idea of her sleeping in here and not in my bed, but I guess sacrifices must be made for the greater good.”

“She’ll like it.”

“Right?” I exclaim. “I totally agree. What’s not to like? It’s feminine without being over-the-top. At least that’s what Freddy said when he went nuts with my credit card.” My assistant loves to give it a workout, but I have zero complaints about everything he did. My place has been transformed in a matter of hours.

Callan brought me home after the surgery, and I napped for a solid two hours while my house was filled with people and Freddy was running the show. I woke up starving like a beast, and then Lenox showed up. Bastard made me take one of those pain pills Wynter prescribed, which I might be feeling a little—or maybe even a lot. I think I’m a lightweight when it comes to any sort of medication. Just look at what happened to me in the bathroom at the club the night I met Wynter.

---