Page 24 of Heartbeats & Highways

Pathetic.You’re pathetic.

But the voice in my head didn’t belong to me. It belonged tohim.

“Shut up,” I muttered out loud.

A knock on the front door made me freeze. Was it my neighbor from across the hall? Had she finally decided to be braver than me and introduce herself?

“Evie?” Savage called out.

My stomach flipped in excitement as I went into the living room.

I unlocked the chain and opened the door and took in his appearance. Black thermal shirt and his leather cut, along with jeans, boots and mussed blond hair. There were shadows beneath his eyes, like he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep. I wondered if it would’ve been different if I’d been next to him.

I shut that thought down.

Savage’s blue eyes raked over me.

I glanced down at my attire. I was still dressed in my nightgown. And were those—yep. My nipples. Standing at attention.

Hastily crossing my arms over my chest, I stepped aside and let him in.

He cleared his throat. “I brought you a breakfast sandwich.”

“I was just about to change.” I blushed.

“Not on my account, I hope.”

“I’m ignoring that comment.” I waved him toward the kitchen. “Make yourself comfortable.”

His jaw tightened and he nodded, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the paper bag.

I rushed into the bedroom. I stripped out of my nightgown and flung it onto the bed.

He moved around the kitchen, opening cabinets and drawers.

I slid into my jeans and the blue and black flannel shirt. I looked in the floor-length mirror that hung on the back of the closet door. After my shower last night, I’d brushed out my hair and let it air-dry. It had a slight wave to it, but I didn’t want to put it up despite it falling all the way to my waist.

“What’s that?” Savage asked as I came into the kitchen.

“What’s what?”

He pointed to the mason jar covered with a dish towel that rested on the counter.

“Oh. That’s my sourdough starter,” I explained.

On a plate was an unwrapped breakfast sandwich. He pushed it toward me. “How was your first night? And what’s a sourdough starter?”

I blinked as he pivoted the conversation. “My first night was fine. A sourdough starter is flour and water, and it naturallygrows yeast. So, I can bake my own sourdough bread. I had to go to the store and get the flour, but?—”

“You went to the store?”

“Yes.”

“Last night?”

“Yes.”

“You took the bus? At night?”

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