Page 37 of Reticent

A slow smile curves his lips. “My bedroom is next door to the right if you need anything.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

He starts to close the door but stops. “Thank you for staying the night.”

“Thanks for the invitation.”

He leaves the room, closing the door behind him. As inviting as the enormous bed looks, I cross the hall to the bathroom with my overnight bag and relieve myself. After washing my hands, I check every available drawer and cabinet. I find three bulk-size boxes of condoms and various unused toiletries, including travel-sized unopened bottles of women’s bodywash and shampoo.

“Such a player,” I muse before closing the drawer.

I reach into the shower and turn the knob until the nozzles spray from all directions. Has he had sex in here? Or in the bathtub overlooking the city? Or in the guest bed? I shake my head at the thought, not wanting to imagine him fucking someone else.

I strip out of my clothes and grab a disposable shower cap from my things. After a long shower, I feel more tired than I’ve ever been in my life. I trudge back to the room in my pajamas and climb underneath the covers.

With the day I’ve had, it isn’t long before it’s lights out for me.

Chapter Fifteen

I wake at 6 o’clock in the morning with a full bladder and an empty stomach. After using the bathroom, I pad barefoot across the hardwood floors and down the stairs in search of the kitchen. When I find it, I flip on the lights.

Hunter’s kitchen is a chef’s dream, with an industrial-size refrigerator and plenty of open space to entertain and cook. Not knowing where to look, I open random cabinets and drawers until I find the flatware and bowls.

A fully stocked refrigerator houses an assortment of food, imported beer, and VOSS artesian water bottles. I grab the container of shrimp pasta and a water bottle and eat standing over the counter, staring out at the sleepy city from the windowed walls. After I finish, I wash my dishes, leaving the kitchen in its original immaculate state.

Too full to lie back down, I take a quick shower and dress for the day in a pair of maternity capris and a sweatshirt stretched to the max around my baby bump. I doubt Hunter is awake, but I stop by his door to check. I press my ear to the door and listen for any sound. I don’t want to wake him, but I also don’t want to leave without saying goodbye. Sending a text message or leaving a note seems rude, almost as rude as waking him up at six a.m.

Waiting for him to wake up seems like the best option. I turn from his door and start for the guest room. At the sound of his door opening, I freeze.

“Yasmine?” The sleepy drawl of my name on his lips sounds like coarse coffee grounds.

I turn, facing a half-naked Hunter. He really needs to put a shirt on. And while he’s at it, he needs to pull up his pajama pants. Is he wearing underwear? By the way things are hanging, I’d say that’s a no.

“Did you need something?” he asks.

I snap my eyes to his face and swallow. “I ate the pasta,” I blurt. I’m being weird, but I can’t help it.

A slow smile grows on his face, and the dimple I try not to think about dents underneath his left eye. Lord, give me strength. “I’m impressed,” he says.

“I like your tattoos.” I point in the general direction of his torso.

“Thanks. I’m thinking about getting something after the baby is born.”

“Me too,” I say, concentrating on keeping my eyes where they belong. Hunter’s eyes seem bluer this morning. Maybe it’s because of the extra layer of dark scruff on his chin and jaw. As if he needs any more help in the hot department. “Maybe I can go to your guy?”

“Girl,” he says. Lucky her. “We can go together if you’d like.”

He has no freaking idea how much I would like that. “Yeah. Sure,” I say casually.

“I love your half sleeve.”

“Thanks.” I run my hand down my arm. “I got it to piss off my dad.” There’s that smile again. And in the words of my sister: holyfuckingshit.

“Were you about to leave?” He scratches his abs, and my eyes drift to the delicious trail of dark hair that disappears into the waistband of his pajama bottoms.

He’s killing me right now. He has to know what he looks like and what it’s doing to me. I’m a hormonal pregnant woman who hasn’t had sex since … well, him.

“Yasmine?”