Page 38 of Bad Boy in Her Bed

Ryder’s constant watch of the time when Birch hung out past his shift.

Checking his phone for the hundredth time, he turned on his truck and eased back onto the street.

He messed up big time with Jocelyn.

And he wasn’t too proud to grovel.

Parking at the back of the hotel, he slipped into the elevator and pressed the number to her floor, wishing he knew what to say and knowing that whatever he did say wouldn’t make up for how he left her hours ago.

She’d done nothing but try to help him and he bit at her like a wounded animal.

Standing in front of her door, he hesitated long enough to reassure himself he was ready to handle it if she refused to see him.The thought sat heavy on his shoulders, tightening his throat.But it was his own actions that had brought him to this point, and he deserved whatever it was she chose to dish out.

He knocked and waited, hands shoved into his pockets while he listened to the soft padding of her feet across the carpet before the door opened and she leaned in the doorway without a word.

“I’m sorry,” he said, forcing himself to look into her steel blue eyes.“I just…no excuses.I’m sorry.”

She studied him for a moment before she backed up and held the door open for him.“Next time you run, take me with you.”

Stepping into the room, he looked around to see that she’d organized all the paperwork into a single pile on the dinette.Her laptop was closed and an array of pens and markers were neatly lined on the table.Her bedding was rumpled, the TV on and muted.

“Take your shoes off and get in,” she instructed, climbing into the bed as he stood in the entrance.“Is Grey expecting you home tonight?”

He shook his head, his mind still trying to process her order.

Tossing the blanket aside for him, she patted the mattress, picked up the remote, and turned off the television.“Birch?You don’t have to.But you can if you want to.”

He toed his shoes off and crossed the room as she turned off the light, leaving them in the dark.Sitting on the edge of the bed while his vision adapted to the sliver of light peeking through the heavy curtains, he felt her shift behind him moments before her arms wrapped around his chest.She tightened her hold, the heat of her body pressed against his back, warming him.

“I’m not angry,” she murmured into his neck.“Not at you, at least.A little hurt, but not mad.I can’t be pissed off about you protecting yourself when I do the same, right?”

Taking a deep breath, he swallowed hard, something in her words unsettling him.“Maybe not, but I’m still sorry.You didn’t need to hear any of that.”

“Yeah, I did.”Her thumbs drew circles on his abs.“You needed me to hear it, so yes, I needed to hear it.”When he merely grunted in reply, she kissed the nape of his neck and wrapped her arms tighter around him, sending a shiver through his whole body.“It’ll be better in the morning.We’ll figure it out, and it’ll be okay.”

The war in his head spurred to life again and he shut his eyes to block out everything except a promise he knew he shouldn’t believe no matter how much he wanted to.

Chapter Seventeen

Jocelyn’s breathing steadiedas she approached the hotel, the early morning sun already heating the pavement under her feet.Waving at the staff manning the check-in counter, she walked to the elevator and used the bottom of her shirt to wipe the sweat from her brow.

Her mind was whirring when she’d awoken with Birch out cold at her side.They’d stayed up whispering in the darkness for almost two hours before his answers became too groggy to understand.He remained on edge until she turned her back to him and one muscled arm finally flung around her and pulled her flush against him while he murmured his answers to her questions.

It was a dangerous precedent to set, letting him get under her skin as easily as he did.She was damn good at falling hard and becoming blind to the flaws of her lovers.It was a weakness she paid dearly for.

Stepping into the hall, she slid her key from the pocket of her shorts and opened her door, smiling when she saw him in her bed, a pillow in her place.

Over the years, she’d known a few loners, people who lived their lives their way with few connections tying them down.

But Birch wasn’t a loner.

He was simply alone.

Aside from his brothers, who he seemed to keep in the dark about anything difficult, he never mentioned any friends.Every story involved a guy he knew, or a woman from the neighborhood, or someone he worked with a few years ago.He knew everyone in town, had hung out with most of them for a night here and there.But none were deemed friends.

When she probed into his dating history, asking about his last girlfriend, he took a moment to think about it.

“Serious girlfriend?Does middle school count?”

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