Enemy Down - Cathryn Fox Page 0,31
bedroom all to myself. Obsessive and possessive, which isn’t really like me. Wanting to get straight to Maize and avoid small talk with my brothers, I head to the stairs, but Andrew comes from the kitchen, a bowl of cereal in his hands.
“Hey,” he says, around a mouthful of food as his spoon clinks against the ceramic bowl. He glances at his watch. “You’re back early.”
“Yeah, I cut out a bit early.” Volunteer work is important to me. Not just to look good on paper, but because I like putting a smile on the faces of sick kids, and tossing a ball around with those who can. It’s just something private I do for them and for me. I don’t want glory, and I guess it’s not totally altruistic, because I get something out of it too. I might have been born with a silver spoon in my mouth, and a nice trust fund, but I have values and morals—I did until I bought Maize—and try to give back as much as I can. I won’t always have football, and when my career is over, I want to be a well-rounded guy.
“Where have you been hiding?”
I stop on the first step and turn to him. “Not hiding, just busy.”
“I was surprised to see you in the…basement.”
I shrug and take another step. “Yeah, well. Surprise.”
He shoves a spoonful of sugary cereal into his mouth. “Who’s the girl? She’s kind of cute.”
My stomach tightens with possession. “Yeah, I’m helping her out. I injured her, so now I’m doing the right thing.”
“Thor said something about that. She’s staying here, then?”
He has a grin on his face as he questions me, and I get it. This is out of character for me. They know it, and I know it, but I’m doing this to right a wrong. My father is a Supreme Court judge, he’s all about justice, which has rubbed off on me. While that’s all true, and no matter how hard I try I still can’t ignore the fact that she intrigues me, and I like talking to her.
“Just until she gets on her feet.” He nods, and I rush up the steps. My heart pounds a little harder as I head down the long hall to my room. I knock, and when no answer comes, I try the knob, half expecting it to be locked. I turn the handle and push it open, and disappointment sits heavy in my gut when I find my room empty.
She’s gone.
Fuck, of course she is. I probably scared her off when I told her I planned to take care of her. I drop my backpack as my gaze goes to my bed, which is now neatly made. I’m about to head back out, go to her place, put her over my shoulder caveman style and drag her back here with me, when there’s a noise sounds in the bathroom, a whine of sorts. Shit, is she in there hurt? I hurry across the room and without giving a second thought to anything but her safety, I swing the door open, and find her in the tub, singing off tune with her ear buds in, and eyes closed. My throat tightens and my entire world tilts on its axis.
Here’s the thing, I’ve seen plenty of naked women. Plenty. The sight of Maize in my tub, her bad ankle lifted and braced on the edge of the tub, as grapefruit bubbles tease her pretty pink nipples, shouldn’t rock my world quite so violently. But it does. There’s no explanation. Other than the fact that maybe I want what I can’t have.
I breathe in the scent of my body wash. In the mornings, it pulls my brain awake and rejuvenates me, but right now, it’s pulling something else awake, something that lives a little further south. I stand there for a second, immobilized, not knowing what to do. Do I run and pretend I was never here, or do I make a sound letting her know I’m home, watching her?
The choice is taken from me when her eyes open, and her head turns my way. I back up as her mouth opens, and she jackknifes up into a sitting position, her foot falling from the edge and splashing in the tub.
“Ow,” she cries, and I cringe.
“Maize, I’m sorry,” I say quickly. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” She covers her lush breasts, although it’s far too late. The sight is burned into my memory and I’ll be putting