Page 105 of Not That Ridiculous

I briskly turned the dial to cold, which put paid to any lingering sexy thoughts. I knocked back the rest of my coffee, skipped the shave, and ran upstairs in my towel to brush my teeth and change into clean clothes.

I grabbed underwear, trousers and a Chipped Cup t-shirt from the dresser and changed quietly, watching Kevin as I did. He’d rolled onto his back and had one arm tossed over his head and the covers down to his waist even though it was cool.

Dressed in my usual work uniform, I stood and stared at him for a moment.

I’d heard that people in their sleep looked unguarded. Younger. Vulnerable.

Not Kevin.

Despite the sweetly flushed cheeks and boneless relaxation, he didn’t look vulnerable at all. He looked contained. Powerful. He looked like the focused, physical Kevin I’d seen in the gym and less like the placid, cheerful boy that everyone else saw.

Was this, I wondered, the real Kevin?

And then I wondered, what was I supposed to do now? Roll him out of bed, make him a latte and send him on his way? I clenched at the thought of it, and not in an exciting way.

No. I didn’t want to turf him out. I should want to. I should be desperate to claw back a sense of my own personal space.

I didn’t want him to leave.

He hummed and arched his back before turning his head on the pillow and opening his eyes. He was more awake this time, but not by much.

I perched on the side of the mattress. “I’ve got to go to work.”

He hummed again.

“Stay,” I said, impressed with how nonchalant I sounded.

The way he smiled at me suggested I hadn’t quite pulled off nonchalant after all.

“Will do,” he said.

“I’ll leave you a key to lock up. I’ll be back after lunch to let Phil out, but you might want to go before then.”

“I’ve got a key, thanks,” he said. “In fact, I’m gonna need to give you one.”

“What?”

“I changed your door, remember? That included the lock.”

Oh my god, was that only yesterday? It seemed like a week ago.

“I need to get another key cut for Suzanne,” I said.

He stared at me. “Miss Lawson? Why does the newsagent lady have a key to your house?” he said, absolutely baffled.

“She looks after Phil for me if I know I’m going to be at the shop all day and can’t make it back to let him out. She takes him most days anyway. He usually hangs out in her office at the newsagent’s. Remember, she dropped him off with you that once?”

This seemed beyond Kevin’s morning processing abilities. His brows drew together and he blinked.

I cupped his cheek. “Where’s my key?”

“On my keyring,” he said.

“Mm-hmm. And your keyring?”

He rubbed both hands over his face and pushed up to his elbows. “Uh. Pocket.”

I gently pushed him back down, thrilled at how easily he went. “I’ll get it.”

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