Good Girl Gone Page 11

“Oh,” I say. “I’ll get dressed and get out of your way.”

“You can stay.”

“What?” Did he just say I can stay?

“Stay. Sleep. Make yourself something to eat. Take a shower.”

“You’re not worried I’ll steal something?”

He laughs. “Because I have so much for you to steal.”

I rub my finger under my eye and look down at the mascara that’s smudged on my finger. Oh, crap. I probably look like a deranged raccoon because I never did take my makeup off last night.

“Well, you do have nice porn,” I tell him.

“You can thank Sam and Pete for that.”

“Yeah, that’s what they all say.”

“Are you going to see the baby today?” he asks.

I almost forgot that I’m an aunt. And I didn’t get to spend much time with little Sammy last night, not once my brother got there. “Probably.”

“Good,” he says crisply. “You should.” He shifts himself to his chair and looks at me. “What are you going to do about your brother?”

“Nothing,” I snap. “Are you going to work?”

He shakes his head. “No.”

I play with a string on the blanket. “Oh.”

He rolls into the bathroom and I hear the shower turn on. I lie back against the soft pillows and listen to him brushing his teeth. I tiptoe to the bathroom door and see that he has rolled into his shower and shifted to a shower chair. His hair is all wet and sudsy, and he looks over at me. “Unless you’re planning to come and join me, I’d appreciate some privacy,” he says.

“Are you naked?”

He looks down at his lap and then up at the showerhead. “No, I normally shower with my clothes on.”

“Do you have a spare toothbrush?”

“I think Friday left some in the drawer from when I moved in.”

I pull the drawer open, find a toothbrush still in its package, and brush my teeth. I know he told me to leave, but he’s naked in the shower and I’m a nosy bitch. And my breath was probably pretty bad too.

“Do you need some help?” I ask. I look at him in the mirror from across the room.

He heaves a sigh and turns the water off. “Just because I’m in a wheelchair doesn’t mean I need help.”

“I was just trying to—”

“I know what you were trying to do.” He wraps a towel around his waist and transfers back to his wheelchair. He rolls past me and into the bedroom. I follow him. “Did you want to watch me get dressed too? Satisfy your curiosity?”

“Well,” I start to say. But I don’t know how to finish it.

“Let’s satisfy my curiosity, shall we?” he asks. His voice is brisk and cold.

I watch him. “What are you curious about?”

“I’d really, really like to know what you look like without clothes.” His eyes roam up and down my body. I can feel them as they slide from the top of my head, down my neck, across my chest, and over my belly.

When his eyes come back up to my face, I meet them. Then I pull his T-shirt over my head. His eyes don’t leave my face, though. I hook my fingers in the waistband of his boxers, which are already low on my hips, and I push them down to the floor. I kick them across the room with my toe.

His eyes still don’t leave my face though, not even once I’m naked. His dark eyes just stare into mine, and I swear it’s like there’s an invisible cord pulsing between us. A hot wire that jolts and hums. Or maybe that’s just me humming.

I hold my arms out to the side. “Satisfied?”

“Not even close,” he says.

I turn and walk naked into his bathroom, and I turn on the shower. My hand trembles, despite my bravado.

He follows me. “Do you need some help in there?” he calls to me.

“I think I’m okay for now,” I call back.

“Let me know if you change your mind.” Then he rolls out of the room. When I get out of the shower, he’s gone from the apartment completely. And I can’t help but think that I deserved what I just got.

Josh

Motherfucker. That was an awful thing to do. It was terrible for me to do that to her. And even worse to do it to myself because now I have to ride the whole way to the gym with my coat in my lap.

I shouldn’t have taunted her, because I’m quickly learning that Star will step up to pretty much any challenge I offer to her. I happen to admire her for that, but the idea of her naked… Damn. Narrow waist. Long legs. Boobs that might be almost a handful. I tried to look at her face and not glance once at her body, but I sneaked a peek when she turned to go into the bathroom. My eyes jumped from hers and trailed all the way down her body.

“Dude, you going inside or what?” a voice asks from behind me. I realize that I’ve stopped right in front of the door to the gym. “You need me to get the door for you?”

“No, I got it,” I answer. I pull the door handle and roll inside. He holds the door open behind me and walks in.

I see Daniel, the physical therapist from hell, waiting for me in the entryway. He’s holding a clipboard, flipping through my file. I know it’s mine because I can see my name on the outside of it. He looks up. “Morning,” he says with a grin.

Daniel is a friend of the Reeds, and that’s how I met him. He used to be in the military, but he lost his leg in Afghanistan and was discharged. Then he had some mental health issues, which I still don’t know anything about. It’s none of my business, I guess. I know he’s married to a woman named Faith and that I’m one of his first clients.