Page 39 of Nanny for the Damaged Ex-SEAL

"No, but I'll be done soon. I just came to kiss you goodnight."

We don't say anything to each other as I dress Ethan for bed.

He picks Ethan up to carry him to his bed and I leave the room. I need to get some water. I'm suddenly thirsty. When I get to the top of the stairs, I see that the woman is back to her original seat in the living room. I think of going to my room instead, but I really need to soothe my throat with water. I need to do it before Connor comes out, so I go down the stairs. She's scrolling through her phone, so she doesn't look at me when I get down. I'm thankful for that and go over to the kitchen. I get a glass and put it under the tap to fill it up. When it's full, I gulp the water quickly. I put the glass in the sink and head for the stairs. I've just taken one step when I hear her speak.

"Can I have a glass of water too, please?" She doesn't say it in a bossy way, but it irks me. She's been sitting there, why can't she get it herself?

But I don't let my irritation show. She's Connor’s guest and I have to be nice to her. Plus, she's being polite. She didn't say, “Nanny, go get me water.” She didn't command me, so why am I so angry? I let my hand off the banister and take my feet off the first step. I go back to the tap and I fill a glass of water. When I hand it over to her, she thanks me and smiles. I smile back at her. A tight-lipped smile, then I turn to go upstairs.

I'm at the top when Ethan's door opens and Connor comes out. He doesn't say anything. He doesn't even say goodnight, and neither do I. But as he's about to start descending the stairs, I see a smirk on his face. A subtle one, but a smirk nonetheless.

I'm fuming again.

This just confirms he's doing it on purpose. He brought this woman home to torment me and I'm playing right into his hands. He's seen the look on my face. He's seen how cold I became the minute the woman stepped in. He's just been sitting back, witnessing it all. Watching it all go exactly as he’d planned. Now I'm mad at myself for letting it show, for showing him that I'm bothered.

I open my door and slam it a little too hard. Then regret it, because I'll only end up disturbing Ethan. I take off my clothes absentmindedly like a programmed robot and go into the bathroom, turn on the shower and step under the stream of water. A shock of cold streaks through my bones and I let out a small scream. I adjust the knob, and when it's hot, I timidly slip back under the water. I curse under my breath. I curse everything and anything until I run out of things to curse. Today is not my fucking day.

I don't do any of my night routine. And without putting on clothes, I slide under the sheets. Sleep will protect me from myself tonight. As soon as I close my eyes, I'll forget Connor. I'll forget the woman and hopefully I'll wake up to a better tomorrow.

But sleep doesn't come. I shut my eyes tight and stay still for countless minutes, but nothing happens.

I can hear them laughing downstairs. Or am I imagining it? It's a long way down and sound doesn’t carry easily from down there.

I look at my alarm clock on the bedside table. It's almost 9:30 p.m. If she’s here this late, then maybe she'll be spending the night. The thought sets little fires to my chest. I can't bear it; I can't stand it. He'll be having sex with her in his room. Dear God, what if I hear them? I mean, his room is beside mine, and the walls aren't so thick. I don't know which would be worse; him fucking her in his bed or on the couch he fucked me on.

I shut my eyes extra tight and pray for sleep to come fast because my head will explode if I don't tune out soon.

After a while I begin to drift off and slip into the sanctuary of sleep.

A quiet sound rouses me, followed by a slight creak of the bedframe and a warm body sliding into bed next to me, the sheet separating us. I crack my eyes open. Someone is in my bed. I'm dreaming. No, I'm not. It's Connor. Okay, I must be dreaming. But he's beside me, and he's real. His chest is bare, I can feel it against my arm. I'm so startled and confused that I don't even think of springing off the bed. He rests his arm across my stomach.

"Why are you here? Shouldn't you be with your girlfriend?"

"What girlfriend?"

"The woman you came home with?" I refuse to dignify her existence by calling her by her name.

"Did you forget her name, or you just don’t want to say it? Her name is Miranda."

I don’t give two shits what her name is, but I don't tell him that. "Then you should go be with Mira…her." I retort.

He laughs and lies back on the pillow beside me. He stares at the ceiling, then turns just his head to me. "Are you jealous?" I can hear that same stupid smirk from earlier in his voice.

"Huh?"

"Miranda went home after dinner. She’s gone. And she’s just a friend, that's all. I’ve never even made a pass at her, I’m not interested. We met at the gym. Just a client turned friend."

I swallow. I've been fuming for nothing and now he knows I'm jealous.

"But are you jealous?" he asks again.

"Why do you keep asking that?"

"Well, for starters, you shut down when I brought her in, and then you've been stomping around all night with a piss face on."

I'm mortified. "I've not been stomping around! Why would you—"

He puts a finger to my lips. "Shh. I know you've been mad at me. Just the same way I was mad at you for avoiding me and spending your time with whoever you've been spending time with."

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