Page 36 of Crushing Clover

Oh, right.

“Thank you for untying me, Saint.”

So ridiculous, but it seemed to satisfy him.

Kiss my ass, Saint.

Fuck you and your shitty attitude, Saint.

If I’d expected him to help me up, I would have been sitting there until I died of old age. He walked away, but not before his gaze drifted over my face and down to my neck. I almost expected him to do more, but he left me alone.

“Go clean yourself up and then come down for breakfast,” Rushton directed.

“Yes, sir.”

Lucky trailed me out of the room, a looming shadow.

“No one told you to watch me this time,” I pointed out as I automatically headed to his room.

“I’ll be watching you until Saint or Rush tell me to stop. Besides, watching you shower isn’t exactly a hardship.”

“Can I use the bathroom alone, at least?”

“Five minutes and then I’m coming in.”

“Men,” I grumbled under my breath.

“Hey, don’t be so grouchy. You’re getting a new wardrobe on someone else’s dime today.”

“I don’t even like shopping.”

His brows rose. “A woman who doesn’t like shopping? That’s got to be a first.”

“Have you talked to many women?”

“Talked?” He grinned. “I’m not a big talker.”

“Are you implying you’re a big fucker?”

“I’m average, at best.”

“Average? Ha. Tell that to my scrambled guts.”

I turned on the bathroom fan and hurried to make the most of my unsupervised time. As soon as I flushed, he burst into the room, looking suspicious.

“Did you come?”

“I had to poop, if you must know.”

He grinned. “More room in there for me later.”

Ugh. Why were men so gross?

I ignored him, hoping he was kidding.

Unlike the night before, I showered by myself as Lucky watched, not bothering to wash my hair.

“Hurry up. Breakfast’s ready.” He waved his phone at me, as though I’d be able to read the text he’d received from where I was drying off.

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