Page 13 of Pour Decisions
“Deal.”
“Then let me bring in your stuff.”
“I can bring in my stuff,” I say. “I’m supposed to help you with your back pain, not make it worse.”
“I can handle it,” he says. I sigh and stare at him for a few beats. “Fine. I’ll just prepare other things.”
I go outside and bring in my stuff, which doesn’t take long. As I go in and out, I spot JD going from room to room, arranging things. Finally, I bring in my last bag and put it on the floor in the master bedroom. The bed is too inviting to not flop on it, facedown.
JD appears moments later, wordlessly goes through his dresser, and starts grabbing stacks of neatly folded clothes, taking them to the other room, I’m assuming. I roll onto my back and close my eyes, too worn out to care, as he goes back and forth. Eventually I hear a thump on the bed and see him standing over me.
“Some fresh sheets. I put out some towels and washcloths in the bathroom. Not sure what your grocery situation is, but I made space for whatever you get. You can have anything except for the meal prep meals in the black or green containers,” he says. “Even the ice cream.”
I lift my head. “Thank you. But that’s a little extra, isn’t it? I’m just here for a little bit.”
He raises his eyebrows.
“You’re staying with me. That means I take care of you, alright? It’s the least I can do,” he says, his hand on the door frame. Against my better judgment, my heart flips in my chest.
CHAPTER FIVE
JD
I’m a creature of habit,even on the weekend. So waking up without Bubba on the other side of the bed as he always is, and with the smell of coffee already brewing throws me off. Then I remember Katrina is here and my whole body feels like it’s on a rollercoaster’s downward swoop.
I couldn’t have lived with myself if I’d left her without a place to go, but now I have to get my head on straight before I walk out of my room. We’re not friends. We’re just roommates.
Well, temporary roommates. Although I went out of my way to make it extra comfortable for her, so maybe she’ll stay a bit longer. For what? I don’t know yet.
This is too much to deal with before I have coffee. I was up late trying to get through a backlog of work, but I wake up at the same time every day regardless of when I went to bed.
I rake a hand down my face and go to brush my teeth. My gaze wanders across all of Kat’s stuff on the side of the sink that I cleared, soaking in all the details. When we dated before, she was at my place so much that she had all of her stuff at my apartment. Some of the stuff is familiar, but a lot of it is new.
By the time I’m done, I’m still not fully awake, but I’m alert enough to go get the coffee I need. My palms are sweating and I haven’t even seen her.
I make my way down the hall and to the kitchen, which has a sliding glass door out to the deck. Katrina is outside on a yoga mat, ass up as she does some yoga pose. The sun is hitting her just right, spotlighting her soft brown skin like nature wants to call attention to how beautiful she is.
All the blood in my body does a hairpin turn to shoot back down to my cock. She’s in a pair of stretchy shorts that ride high on her thighs.
Her thighs are my weakness—a nice, thick blend of softness and muscle. She has a birthmark on the back of her left one that looks like a turtle. It was always ticklish when I touched it in a specific way.
I want to touch her, badly. Kneel behind her, run my hands up the curve of her hips and brace myself over her, grinding against her. Pull her panties to the side and sink into her hard the way she likes.
She suddenly comes out of the pose and looks right at me, catching me staring at her ass. Shit.
Bubba must have alerted her, because seconds later he comes trotting over from where he must have been laying. He’s happy to see me as always, and completely unaware of how awkward he’s accidentally made things. I want to go pour myself a cup of coffee to give the tension a second to defuse, but Bubba paws at the door to be let in.
“Morning!” Katrina says, sitting down and stretching her legs out in front of her. She has a surgical scar on her knee that wasn’t there before. Can she still dance? I hate the idea of her having to stop. Dance was everything to her.
“Morning.” I step aside for Bubba to come in, but he lingers in between us, tail whipping back and forth. “Come on, Bubba.”
Bubba turns back to sniff Katrina’s face. She opens her arms and he snuggles up close, his tail wagging faster. Like they’re best friends instead of near strangers.
Bubba’s a great dog, but if someone broke in, he’d probably follow them around with a toy in his mouth while they ransacked my house.
“He’s not bothering me,” she says, scratching his side. “We were just hanging out while I did my stretches.”
“I know, but…” I don’t have a solid reason for him to leave her alone besides my own discomfort. “Fine.”
