Page 7 of The House Guest
“You deserve to stay here as long as you need to. Christina would’ve wanted that.”
“No onedeservesa place like this. It’s a privilege. And the fact of the matter is, it’s Dorian’s decision now.”
“Well, he made the right one.” Benjamin smiled.
“You must’ve known deep down that Dorian had a heart if you even attempted to convince him to let me stay.”
“Of course. I’ve known him since he was a kid—since before his father began setting expectations so high that it burned Dorian out. He left home to put some distance between them. Dorian is good people, but it might take you a while to see it.”
“He’s lucky to have someone like you around who knows the real him.”
“Believe me, I still don’t want to piss him off. But I don’t lose sleep at night worrying about my job like Patsy.” He chuckled. “I probably know too much for him toget rid of me.”
I leaned in. “Like what?”
“Well, for one, it’s kind of hard to fire someone who used to help change your sheets when you pissed the bed as a kid.” He winked. “But you didn’t hear that from me.”
I covered my mouth in laughter. “Oh shit.”
Patsy entered the kitchen and whispered, “Are we gossiping about Dorian?”
“Yeah.” I nodded.
“Seems we’re safe.” She pretended to wipe sweat from her forehead.
“I’m so happy I don’t have to say goodbye to you guys.” I grinned.
I lingered in the kitchen for almost an hour, shooting the shit with them.
After I finally managed to stop chatting long enough to make a sandwich, I carried it upstairs. To get to my room at the far end of the hallway, I had to pass all the other bedrooms. It occurred to me that I had no idea where Dorian was sleeping. I assumed he wouldn’t want to take his dad’s room, as that might be a little strange, especially since the walk-in closet was still filled with Remington and Christina’s clothing. Talk about haunting. But maybe he would want to claim it, since it was the best room in the house.
Halfway down the hall was a small window that overlooked the patio below. I peeked out and noticed something moving outside.
Dorian stood at the edge of the pool. His thick, black hair was wet and slicked back. His skin glistened with water droplets, every gorgeous ripple of muscle on display.Well, damn. I’d suspected the body probably matched theface, but here was my proof. I was practically drooling, and it wasn’t anything to do with this sandwich. That was the body of someone who worked out religiously.
His gaze rose without warning to meet my stare. I nearly fell back from the shock of getting caught. Embarrassed, I did what my mother always taught me to do in awkward situations: lean into it. I smiled and awkwardly gave him a thumbs up.
His eyes slowly narrowed as he returned the gesture, probably officially regretting his decision to let me stay.
CHAPTER 4
After that, an entire week went by without further run-ins with Dorian. That seemed like a miracle considering we were living in the same house. But if this was the way it was going to be, I could definitely get used to it. It felt as quiet around here as it had before he came back.
Dorian left super early for the office each day. I knew that because the garage door would wake me in the wee hours of the morning, since my bedroom was right above the bay where he parked. After the garage door shut, I’d roll over and go right back to sleep.
I also heard him returning late most nights. I wasn’t sure if he was working long hours, or if he’d been going out on the town. But if it weren’t for the sound of that garage door, I might’ve doubted whether he was here at all.
On Friday night, I felt restless and wanted to spend some time outside my bedroom. I’d overdone the hiding thing and had started to feel cooped up. I checked the garage for Dorian’s Porsche, which was still gone, so Iassumed I could safely watch a movie in the home theater down in the basement. Aunt Christina and I had watched movies once in a while down there when she was alive, and it seemed just the thing this evening.
After popping some popcorn in the kitchen, I went downstairs to the theater. It was small compared to most of the other rooms in the house, but really nice, featuring three rows of purple velvet seats and recessed lighting that automatically dimmed when the screen was activated. There were also vintage movie posters hanging on the walls.
Benjamin had showed me how to work the sound system, which could be controlled from a laptop. After looking up the instructions I’d saved on my phone, I called up the movie I’d chosen for myself tonight,Pulp Fiction.
The Royale with Cheese scene had started when the theater door suddenly opened.
I straightened in my seat and reached for the remote to pause the movie.
Shit.
