neighborhood—proof of that was hanging out right at the front door. Two guys who screamed “drug dealers” watched as we pulled to the curb and stopped.
“This is where you live?”
“Yeah. It’s what I can afford. I’m hoping to move soon, though.”
Brody started to say something, then stopped.
“Thank you for the ride. For everything.”
“You’re welcome.”
I made it halfway to the door when Brody called after me. “Willow?”
He jogged to catch up to me. “Stay at the hotel I’m staying at. At least tonight. I’ll get you a room.”
“That’s sweet of you. But I’m fine. Really, I am.”
“I wasn’t worried about you.” He lied right through his teeth. “It would help me sleep better tonight. Knowing you weren’t . . . ” He looked around, his thoughts evident without having to voice them.
“I’ll get my stuff.”
Chapter 31
Delilah
I set my alarm for six, even though I hadn’t really decided if I was going to go or not. After a quick shower, I grabbed my phone from the charger and scanned our texts from last night again.
Brody: Not good.
Delilah: I’m sorry. Anything I can do?
Brody: A naked picture might help . . .
Delilah: LOL. Glad to see you sound more like yourself now. This afternoon when we spoke, there wasn’t one sexual innuendo. I was worried.
Brody: Me too.
Delilah: You staying at the hospital tonight?
I remembered typing that last text and then editing out one word. The initial text read: You staying at the hospital tonight alone? But immediately afterward I felt selfish and was glad I hadn’t sent it. He was going through a horrible time, and my jealousy had no place.
Brody: No. Heading back to Regency soon. I’ll be back for visiting hours in the morning at nine.
Delilah: OK. Hope you get some sleep.
Brody: Call me in the morning. I’ll set an alarm for seven thirty so you can talk dirty to me before I shower.
My mind was busy debating whether I should or shouldn’t as I dried my hair and got my clothes ready. Slipping on an expensive bra and panty set that I’d splurged on last week, I realized my head was bullshitting itself. Who was I kidding? I’d shaved my legs and donned new sexy underwear. I had already mentally decided I was surprising Brody with an in-person wake-up call, even before I admitted it to myself.
Luckily for me, the uniformed elevator operator remembered seeing me with Brody. So when I explained with a blush that I wanted to surprise my boyfriend, he slipped the key into the slot with a sly grin. It was a good thing, because I had completely forgotten access to the penthouse floor required a special key.
There was really no reason for me to be nervous, yet there I was, standing in front of Brody’s suite, a bag of his favorite pumpkin spice muffins in one hand and coffees in a cardboard carrier in the other, and I was anxious about knocking unannounced.
I took a deep breath, raised my knuckles and rapped on the door marked PH2.
No response.
Pulling out my phone, I checked the time—seven thirty-three. Maybe he was sleeping still, or in the shower . . . or had decided to leave early.
I knocked one more time. The second time louder than the first.
I had just started to turn away when I heard the sound of feet walking toward the door.
Brody answered, wearing only tight black boxer briefs. He had a toothbrush in his mouth, and his hair was a sexy mess. His foaming mouth turned to a smile.
I held up the bag of muffins. “I brought you breakfast.”
His eyes swept me from head to toe, making me feel deliciously violated. “You certainly did.”
I was very glad I’d changed my outfit four times and decided on something a bit on the sexy side.
He stepped aside, holding his arm out for me to enter. “Ladies first.”
I handed him the coffees as I passed. “Ladies first is just the Brody Easton way of saying, ‘Let me check out your ass.’”
“You know it.” He chuckled and disappeared into the bathroom, coming back after he had finished his teeth.
“I thought maybe you could use a happy wake-up call and something to eat.”
Brody took the bag from my hand and tossed it over his shoulder before wrapping his arms around my waist and tugging me close. “That’s perfect. I’m fucking starving.”
“What are you doing?” He walked me backward until the backs of my knees hit the couch.
“I’m going to eat.” He gave me a gentle but firm shove so