Page 13 of Shamelessly Loyal
It would almost be sweet if it weren’t so damn sad. She didn’t know what to do with a brother, and I understood that. I’d just gotten one, and I could cheerfully strangle him. Then again, I didn’t want Adam Reed for a sibling or step-sibling. I’d be happy if he were no one at all.
I’d finished half the water bottle when the sound of the locks tumbling attracted my attention. I’d cleaned off a section of the sofa and had settled in with a stack of magazines. A part of me wanted to see what he saw when he looked at them.
Always seek to understand your opponent, Grandfather would say. When you understand them, you discover what motivates them and what can be used as leverage. The door opened to let the brute with the pretty face in. He had takeout boxes and my bag.
The zipper on the bag wasn’t closed entirely and was definitely a little lumpier than when I’d put it in the car. He dropped the bag three steps into the room before kicking the door closed. He also used the key on the deadbolt, locking us inside.
The smell of food drifting from the white plastic bag reminded me that it had been hours since I ate. The fact he brought food didn’t automatically earn him any points, especially not with how long he’d kept me waiting.
“Do you have any food allergies?”
Glancing up from the magazine I’d been perusing, I gave him a once-over, then shrugged a shoulder. “No.”
“Good.” He dropped the bag of food on the coffee table in front of me. “Help yourself. I’m going to shower.” Without a second glance in my direction, he headed for the bathroom. The door closed behind him.
The key he’d used on the door had gone back into the pocket of the jeans he’d been wearing. That meant the key went with him back into the bathroom.
Interesting.
I went back to the magazine, despite how my stomach performed calisthenics to get my attention. The sound of the shower running intruded, except I refused to concentrate on the idea of him naked in the shower. Yet all it took was telling myself I wouldn’t imagine him to conjure up that very image.
Pretty Boy had always been pretty. Well, pretty enough. The last time—the only time—I’d seen him before, I’d been a lot younger and he’d been a lot leaner. At least, I didn’t remember him as being especially thick-chested or as broad.
Course, what did I know?
He’s not remotely afraid of Adam or Ezra.
Fair. I knew that.
He loves his sister.
Sister.Damn, Em. I wish you were here right now. I have a hundred questions and would live in ignorance if I just had you to hug.
The article I’d been reading lay open on my lap. There were photos of Em in there that were taken right after her thirteenth birthday. They’d been interviewing her about being one of the youngest, celebrated artists to work as a professional dancer and exhibitionist.
Every word of Em’s just leapt off the page.
“…I love to dance. I’m only ever alive when I’m up there…”
“Always. I’ve always wanted to dance and to perform.”
“…injuries are a part of the art. Pain, though, can be overcome…”
Tears burned in my eyes. I’d always known she kept her pain bottled and hidden. Every once in a while, it crept out like a black vapor released into the air. Those moments held so much pain and—
The door to the bathroom opened letting out the wet, steamy air carrying a woodsy scent. It was the shampoo, conditioner, and body wash he used. The all-in-one product painted a sense memory of a lumberjack in his flannel, cutting cords of wood in the snow.
One hundred percent, not my type.
“You haven’t eaten yet?” The warm timbre of his far-too sexy-for-fucking-words voice sent chills over my skin.
I debated ignoring him, but rude was a weapon one could only wield once to great effect. Better to keep it in reserve. Nothing could have prepared me for the sight of him standing there in nothing but a towel, with droplets of water skating over his chest.
He used a second towel to rub over his hair and the motion made the muscles in his arms and chest flex. The dark ink of his tattoo sleeves seemed to dance with the way his muscles moved. Optical illusion? Or just pure…
Pretty Boy snapped his fingers.
Absolutely not an illusion, I looked back at my magazine even as heat swept through me. The back of my neck was so hot I wanted to check if I was too close to the fire. The only fire present was a too damn gorgeous man with the face of an angel and a body that made me want to sin.