Page 45 of Falling for the Bad Boy
Then he was gone. His steps faded down the steps and across the floor downstairs until the front door closed behind him. I pulled my shirt over my head, trying to appreciate the time we’d spent together, the sensations he’d driven me to. Enjoy the moment had been my mantra as long as I could remember having one. Hooking up with the Kiwi from next door wasn’t going to change that. No matter how hurt he looked behind all that swagger.
But maybe I’d been too harsh. He’d made it clear he wasn’t looking for a commitment. If I set the ground rules, and we were upfront with each other, we might be able to find some common ground where we could enjoy each other’s company from time to time. He’d be leaving soon anyway. I vowed to bring up the subject the next time I found myself alone with him. With a little less heaviness in my heart, I squatted down to assess the damage we’d done to my sign.
An impression of Oliver’s butt cheeks covered up half of the “T” in “Limits.” I traced my finger along the edge, wishing I was touching his naked ass instead. A few toe prints by the “N” made me think of how I’d pushed up and into him. My cheeks flushed, heat tracing a line from my neck up to my face. I wasn’t going to get anything done tonight. At least, not on the sign. Not when the evidence of our little get together sat drying before me.
Groaning, I shoved my feet into my shoes and grabbed my notebook, intent on retreating to the first floor where the air didn’t hold the aftermath of a hot, sweaty tryst on the floor. There had to be something on my to-do list I could accomplish tonight. Something that didn’t remind me of how Oliver made my toes curl, my cheeks flush and my core hum. Because if I focused on that, I’d probably end up climbing the stairs to his apartment and asking about that shower. And I wouldn’t let myself go there again. Not when I had so much to do.
So I slid down to resume my spot on the floor. As my butt hit the ground, my phone rang.
CHAPTER 19
Oliver
“What the hell happened to you?”
I stopped, my foot hovering over the bottom step that would take me up to my apartment. “Would you believe me if I said I got into a fight with a can of paint?”
Wyatt stepped closer as I turned around to face him. “Would that can of paint be responsible for leaving those marks on your neck, too?”
Shit. Trinity must have gotten a little rough when she’d nibbled on my neck. A bolt of heat shot through me as I ran my fingers over the tender spot on my throat. “It was a fairly frisky run-in.”
“I can see that.” Wyatt set his hands on his hips. “Can I assume your run-in gave you some insight on where to focus your efforts?”
I waged an internal debate over whether or not I should reveal any of Trinity’s plans. If I let out a sliver of info it might get Wyatt off my back long enough for me to decide what to do. But Wyatt was like a bloodhound. If he caught a whiff of anything he might be able to use to exploit the woman next door, he’d follow that trail until the end. Probably Trinity’s end.
“So?”
Shaking my head, I lifted a hand to run my fingers through my hair. They didn’t make it far. I’d already forgotten my hair had been crusted over with dried paint. “I don’t have anything solid yet, but you’ll be the first one to know when I do.”
Wyatt scuffed his foot along the ground. “You know this isn’t some kind of game. Real people are depending on you for this. Me. Lindsey. Hell, if you want to stay in the States, you know what you’ve got to do.”
Yeah, I knew. Sell out the woman who’d just let me have my way with her. Twice. Dammit. There was no way we were both going to come out of this on top. Someone would win, someone would lose. And I’d always been incredibly competitive. “I’ll figure something out, okay?”
“Hell, for both of our sakes, I sure hope so.” Wyatt pointed toward the steps. “You might want to get in the shower. Not sure you’ll get as many tips at the bar if you show up looking like a smurf.”
Shoulders sagging, I climbed the stairs and let myself into my apartment. Free from Wyatt’s prying eyes, I slid my phone out of my pocket and pulled up the pictures I’d taken of Trinity’s unconventional “to-do” list on my way out. I zoomed in, reading over all of the items she’d written down on those tiny squares of paper. Surely there was somewhere along the list I could insert a few snags. Something that would cause her to rethink her plans without destroying her hope. I didn’t want to sabotage her dreams. All I needed was for her to take her dreams somewhere else.
Out of all the buildings in downtown Newbridge, why had she chosen this particular one? If I could find another option and make it more attractive while making this one seem like her worst nightmare, maybe she’d decide to move her operation elsewhere. But what could I do that wouldn’t paint me as the bad guy? As much as I wanted a piece of Wyatt’s business, as desperate as I was to stay in the States, I wasn’t low enough to completely shut her down to reach my goals. There had to be a way for both of us to get what we wanted.
I glanced from one note to the next until I saw it. Sign installation. She’d written the words in red ink. Even drew a big circle around them. What kind of sign was she having installed? I’d figure out a way to find out. And once I knew the details, maybe there was a way to foil her plans. The walls of my chest squeezed. I rubbed the tight spot with my palm, trying to ease the discomfort.
I’d never cheated before to get ahead. Not even when my opponents deserved it, and so far Trinity had done nothing to warrant that. Her only mistake was picking the wrong building. But if she hadn’t picked the wrong building, we might not have met.
So my path forward consisted of two things: find a way to get Trinity to leave and find her a suitable alternative. I snagged a legal pad from the counter and sat down at the table. First things first. I started to list out all of the reasons I could think of that might cause Trinity to abandon the building. I couldn’t do anything that might affect Tapped. That meant no sudden infestation of rodents, which suited me just fine. My sister had kept a pet rat when she was younger. I never could appreciate what she saw in the furry little creature, no matter how many tricks she taught the damn thing.
Any kind of issue with the building might cause the authorities to look into our side as well. That eliminated any surprise discovery of asbestos or faulty wiring. I’d just have to get more creative. My neck itched, and I raised my hand to scratch at the dried paint. Unable to deal with the way the paint stretched over my skin any longer, I abandoned my list to head toward the shower.
Tomorrow I’d suck up to Trinity and try to get back on her good side. Maybe she’d let something slip. I didn’t need to look very hard for a reason to reconnect. My fingers still tingled from exploring every inch of her.
As I reached for a towel, my phone vibrated. Dammit. Sunday night. I’d almost forgotten my standing video chat with my folks. I pressed on the button to accept the call.
My mum’s face appeared on the screen. “I’d started to think you’d forgotten about us.”
“Of course not, Mum.” It was already Monday evening there. They’d be getting ready to sit down for dinner. For a moment, I let myself think about home. It would be chilly out, so Mum probably had a pot of stew simmering away on the stove. Maybe even made some fresh baked bread to go with it. My mouth watered. I might not miss the quiet, country life my parents preferred, but I sure as hell missed my mum’s cooking.
“What happened to your face?” She squinted at the screen. “Did someone hit you?”
“What? Oh, no, I was just helping a friend paint.” I glanced over my shoulder toward the bathroom. “Actually , I was about to hop in the shower. How’s everything there?”
