Page 65 of Hash

Huh.

There isn’t a whole lot of anything in here. If I didn’t know this was Hash’s room, I would have thought this was a guest room or something. The furniture is bare minimum, and the bed is shoved up against the wall. Instead of a comforter, there’s a thin black blanket and a top sheet with only one pillow.

What kind of animal sleeps only with one pillow?

His hamper is full of dirty clothes, but, surprisingly, his room doesn’t smell. It smells exactly like Hash, a mix of weed, motor oil, and cedar.

I find the bags I brought on the floor at the foot of his bed. Laying Cormac on the bed, I quickly change his diaper before sitting on the bed so my back is against the wall. Lifting up my shirt, I pull a boob out and latch Cormac to it.

Normally I wouldn’t care about where I’m feeding him. It’s a natural thing, and anyone who’s grossed out by it needs to grow the fuck up. I just didn’t want to whip my boob out in front of all of these men I didn’t know, who hadn’t taken their eyes off of me since I walked in.

He really needs a TV or something in here. What does he do to pass the time? Maybe I don’t know him as well as I thought I did because if I knew he wasn’t the type to spend a morning in bed doing nothing but rotting, I don’t think I would have fallen so hard.

There’s two doors on the wall opposite me, both of them closed. If I had to guess, I’d bet one is a bathroom and maybe a small closet. Not that the man has a huge wardrobe. I don’t think I’ve seen a shirt on him that wasn’t either black, gray or white.

I let my head fall back against the wall as Cormac continues to feed.

I’m not sure how much time has passed since I’ve been in here because I zoned out on these very 2000-coded khaki walls before I heard the door handle to the bedroom turn.

Oh shit.

I forgot to lock the door.

Would someone from the party randomly come in here? I don’t know who all was invited, but Hash made it sound like it was just family, but even then, I wouldn’t think he would like someone coming into his space like that.

I know I wouldn’t.

The only person in my life who gets a pass is Frankie.

The door opens, and Hash slips inside, shutting the door behind him.

“Hey,” he says as he takes me in, his voice low.

“Hi.”

“I went outside to find you, and Evan said you needed to feed little man and sent you to my room. Is it okay if I’m in here while you’re… uh…” Hash reaches his arm up and rubs the back of his head as he looks around the room.

I snicker. I shouldn’t find it so entertaining to watch him squirm, but I do. “It’s okay. You can come in. It’s your room.”

Hash pushes off the door and comes over to sit next to me on his bed. “I didn’t know whether or not you wanted privacy.”

“Usually I don’t care.” I shrug. “I just didn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.”

“You mean you didn’t want to feel uncomfortable,” Hash calls me out.

Busted.

“I’m sorry; they’re a lot right now. You’re just new, and because I’m a dipshit, they only just found out about you, so they’re curious. They’ll ease off.”

“It’s okay. I know this isn’t a normal situation.”

Hash laughs. “Baby doll, nothing about how Cain or Ink met their women is what I could call fucking normal. Evan is Scotch’s sister, and Sutton was, or I guess still is, Ink’s receptionist.”

“Oh.”

Sutton was Ink’s receptionist? That’s kind of fucking hot.

“Yeah, oh.” Hash’s lips tip up. His gaze moves from my face to where Cormac is latched. His nostrils flare as he sharply inhales. “I know this is probably the wrong time to say this, but Jesus, your tits look fucking huge. I mean, they were big before, but damn.”