Page 173 of Lovers' Dance

“I’ve not slept since Sunday night,” I replied closing my eyes for a second as I inhaled his scent deeply.

“What?” Matt jerked back, a hand rising to cup my chin while he peered intently at my weary face. “Why in the bloody—”

“Hey, man,” Dante said, coming out from the hallway. “How’s things?”

Matt tore his gaze from my face to look at Dante. “Fine, thank you.” He turned back to me. “I’m taking you home right now. Where’s your stuff?”

“In the office,” I replied, reluctantly pulling away from his strong arms. “I’ll go get it.”

“Okay, poppet,” Matt said, gaze intent on my face. His jaw clenched for a moment, then he looked over at Dante. “Do you need me to drop you off somewhere?”

“Matt,” I began, knowing he wouldn’t be pleased, but too damned numb to stress over it. “Dante’s staying over at mine tonight. He always—” I broke off, giving Dante helpless eyes.

He ran a hand over his braided hair and smiled at me. Matt, always observant, saw Dante’s and my non-verbal exchange.

“Fine, whatever. Let’s go,” Matt said curtly.

I rubbed the back of my neck and moved towards Dante. The both of us headed back down the hallway to our office. Dante eyed the flowers on the desk. They’d been delivered earlier and I couldn’t bring myself to touch them, not yet.

“Where’s your stuff, D?” I asked, while grabbing my bag.

“In the changing rooms.”

I nodded, glancing at the two large bouquets of flowers with trepidation. “I’ll go get it. Can you take those out to the car for me?”

“Of course, sweet cheeks,” he murmured.

I turned on my heels and exited the office, leaving Dante to deal with the flowers. Inside the changing rooms, I took a second to breathe. In and out. My eyes wandered over the medium-sized room. It could do with a lick of paint, maybe new doors on the lockers. That damp patch on the ceiling definitely needed sorting. I hated the flooring in here, maybe in the near future it could be changed. I ran through all the jobs that needed doing in my head. The list was long and perpetually growing. The running costs for my building was immense, and the mortgage on this place…shit. Thinking about the amount I owed made me feel sick to the stomach. I held onto the worry, clutched it to me like a favourite toy. It took my mind off other things. Holding both our bags over my shoulder, I flicked the lights off and closed the door behind me.

“Maybe frosty white,” I muttered to myself walking down the hallway. The walls needed painting here, too. I stopped, almost in the reception area, and straightened the picture on the wall before fishing the keys out and heading for the door. The guys were outside waiting for me. Their outlines through the glass door stood feet apart, both turned away from each other. I sighed and turned off the main lights, then locked up.

Matt was holding the passenger door open for me, and I sent him a small smile before getting in and passing the bags to Dante who’d slipped into the back.

I watched Matt walk around to his side of the car, trying to gauge from his expression what his mood was like. I got nothing. His face was an aloof mask. He got in behind the steering wheel, his cool sidelong gaze reminding me to buckle up.

It was a quiet drive to mine. Quiet and uncomfortable, to say the least.

“Did you eat today, poppet?” Matt asked when he parked behind the Cayenne he’d bought me.

I had to think about it for a few seconds. “Yes, I did.”

“No, you didn’t, sweet cheeks,” Dante corrected from the back seat. “You took a bite from your sandwich, then got distracted by Lisa.”

That’s right. Lisa had issues with her landlord, and I had lent her my ear for a good, old-fashioned rant.

I unbuckled the belt and regarded Matt sheepishly. “I guess I haven’t eaten today.”

Matt didn’t say anything, the gleam of disapproval in his eyes said it all. Dante got the flowers and I got our bags while Matt opened up my front door.

“I’ll go put these in water,” Dante said on entry, and I dropped our bags on the couch while kicking off my sneakers.

Matt glanced at the pillow and duvet on the couch, a pleased smirk on his lips. Dante had slept on the couch last night, not that he got much sleep anyway. We had stayed up late hanging with Bret and Marie-Sol before their departure.

“I’ll get the guest room set up for you,” I called to Dante’s back, gathering up the pillow and duvet. I flashed Matt my empty smile and trudged upstairs. I needed to change the sheets in both rooms. Matt came up about ten minutes later, leaning against the door frame of the guest room as I smoothed the fresh, crisp sheets to my satisfaction. I gave the pillows one final plumping, then picked up the dirty sheets.

“I know it’s late, poppet, but would you like me to make you something to eat?” he asked.

“No, thanks, Matt. I’m not that hungry.” I eased past him, dumping the sheets in the hallway, then heading for my room. He followed.

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