Page 68 of Rooster

I think I'm fully obsessed with her playfulness, and my smile is wide when I turn back around and grab my shirt.

"I'll have to grab a shower later," I say as I pull it back over my head.

"And the erection?" she teases, her eyes dropping to the front of my boxers.

"That hasn't gone away since you pressed your hand to my chest the first time." I toss her a wink and leave the room.

The entire way down the stairs in search of Twisted, I can't get past the hope that she'll still be in my room when I get back, although I know that's not what either of us needs.

We haven't been living here together for very long, but I tend to watch people and mentally log their habits. It's how I know exactly where I'm going to find Twisted.

Twisted is beating the heavy bag with frustrated fists when I open the door to the gym.

I know he senses me in the room. A man with his training knows when someone else is around, but he continues to punch the bag rather than acknowledge me. As frustrating as it is, I fully understand. Morgan is one hell of a catch, and although he never had her, I can only imagine he still feels some sort of loss where she's concerned.

Once again, I'm torn about how to handle this. The last thing I want is trouble in the house or one of the guys not trusting me because of some misperceived connection he has with a woman, but I know just from the limited time I've spent with Morgan that she's worth a little trouble.

"Want to talk about it?" I ask, stepping up beside the bag.

He doesn't respond but his punches get a little harder.

"We can't let this fester."

He freezes, his eyes meeting mine very slowly. There's something a little threatening in the way his right cheek twitches when he looks at me. There's a very real chance this guy is going to punch me in the face.

"I'm not going to apologize for what you walked in on."

"Is this where you tell me not to open doors before you give me permission?"

"That goes without saying," I mutter.

I might have had to seriously beat his ass if he had walked in a few minutes later. I can't even imagine the rage I'd feel if we were further progressed with what I know would've happened had we not been interrupted. If he's seen her even partially naked, I might have to rip his eyes out.

I pull in a deep breath. I'm not usually a rageful guy, but there's something about Morgan that makes me want to protect her from everyone in the world, including teammates who don't know how to wait for a door to be opened.

"What are your intentions with her?"

"Do you really feel like you have a right to that answer?" I challenge, my irritation growing with every passing second.

He straightens, and I don't miss the way his fists clench at his sides. I straighten, too, getting ready to act if he decides to take this in a different direction than us talking this out.

"I think that she's recently had a trauma, and it's a shitty thing to do if you're just trying to get in her pants."

I can't help the humorless huff that rushes past my lips.

"That is not what you walked in on," I assure him.

"Her hand on your dick isn't you trying to get in her pants?" he growls.

"I really like her," I counter. "A lot. It's not just about getting her naked."

His eyes search mine for a few long seconds. I don't know what he sees, but there's a switch in him.

His shoulders sag, and he looks a little defeated.

"Okay," he mutters before turning around and walking out of the room.

It leaves me standing there wondering what in the hell just happened. I know better than to chase after him, but we haven't settled anything either.

---