me and the bed a few times, opening and closing her mouth like she wasn’t sure what she wanted to say.
I kicked off my shoes. “Do you want the bathroom first?”
“Um, sure. But you really don’t have to sleep on the floor.”
“It’s fine. I’m too big.”
“Evan—”
“Just use the fucking bathroom so we can go to sleep.”
She hiked her backpack up her shoulder and her lip twitched in a smile. “Okay, okay. I see he needs his beauty sleep.”
I rolled my eyes, but she ignored me and went into the bathroom.
Sasquatch plopped down in a corner and looked up at me with his muzzle resting on his front paws.
“What?”
He blinked.
“I’m doing the gentlemanly thing and giving her the bed, even though I’m the one who needs sleep because I have to drive.”
He got up, circled once, and laid back down.
“Yeah, buddy, you’ve got the right idea.”
I found an extra blanket in the closet. It wasn’t much, but it was better than the threadbare carpet. I spread it out next to the bed and grabbed one of the pillows. Not exactly comfortable, but better than sleeping in my truck.
I was tired enough that I started to drift off while Fiona did her thing. I heard the door open and I could see the glow of the bathroom light from behind my closed eyes.
“Evan,” she whispered. “You can have the bathroom if you want.”
Opening my eyes, I grunted a reply.
And almost choked on my tongue.
Fiona stood at the foot of the bed, folding her big sweatshirt. I’d only seen her wrapped up in too-large clothes. Her huge coat or baggy sweatshirts. Sure, I’d caught a glimpse of her ass being hugged by her leggings earlier, but that had done nothing to prepare me for what she actually looked like.
Fuck.
She was dressed in a blue tank top and a pair of blue plaid shorts. The whole getup looked like pajamas, but that wasn’t what had my attention. As if I’d lost control of them, my eyes traveled from a set of tits a guy could get lost in, down to a narrow waist, wide hips, thick thighs. She was the definition of curves. Her body was a work of art—soft and feminine—adorned with floral tattoos on one shoulder and upper arm. I spied more ink on her thigh and when she turned—
Oh fuck. That ass. In leggings it had looked good, but barely concealed in plaid pajama shorts? Kill me.
The shock of sudden arousal made my head spin. What the fuck was wrong with me? So what if she was hot underneath her clothes? I’d seen hot women before.
But no one had made my dick react like this. She wasn’t even looking at me and it was like she’d reached right into my pants and wrapped her hand around my cock.
That visual wasn’t helping.
“Hey. Eyes up here, buddy.”
Shit, she’d caught me staring at her ass. “I didn’t know you had any ink.” Not the best excuse, but she did have a tattoo on her thigh.
“Oh, yeah, I have several,” she said brightly. She moved closer and turned so the side of her leg faced me, then pulled the hem of her shorts higher up her thigh. “This one kind of winds around back here too.”
My heart pounded against my ribs as she slowly twisted, lifting her shorts across the smooth skin of one of those luscious ass cheeks. She was so close, all I’d have to do is sit up and I could haul her on top of me.
No, big guy. I sent my dick a mental reprimand. Stand down. This is how we get in trouble.
He didn’t listen. I tried to ignore him. It wasn’t easy.
Fiona, clearly oblivious to my struggle to maintain control of my own body, turned to face me again. She traced her finger along her shoulder and upper arm. “And this one, obviously.”
“They’re nice,” I managed to grind out. “Are you done with the bathroom?”
“Yep. All yours.”
“Took you long enough,” I muttered and got up, keeping my gaze on anything but her.
I grabbed my bag and went into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me harder than necessary. My blood ran hot in my veins and the ache in my groin was annoying as fuck. How was I going to sleep a few feet away from… all that?
Easy. She was just some girl. A few days from now, she’d be gone and I wouldn’t even remember her name, let alone the type of flower she had tattooed on her