Page 96 of Love Me Stalk Me
Silence.
I blink.
Callahan blinks.
Then I slap my forehead and groan, the sound echoing in my small kitchen. "Please just ignore me."
His amusement grows. "Noted."
I shove bacon into my mouth to stop talking forever. The crispy, salty flavor explodes on my tongue, momentarily distracting me from my embarrassment.
I swallow hard, pushing my eggs around my plate, summoning the nerve to ask the question that's been gnawing at me since I walked out here and found him in my kitchen half-naked and beautiful.
"So...um," I start, feeling my face heat up. "Did anything...happen last night?"
Callahan pauses mid-bite, then slowly lowers his fork. The metal clinks softly against the plate in the sudden silence.
Callahan watches me a second too long.
"What do you think?" he asks, his tone carefully neutral.
Then he leans forward, resting his forearms on the table, and Jesus Christ. I should be thinking about his words, about the implications of what he's asking. Instead, my brain short-circuits because his tattoos are on full display.
Thick bands of ink snake up his strong, veined forearms, black and gray designs etched into his skin, bold and intricate. I've never seen them this close before. Never had a full view of the way they wrap around his muscles, shifting with every subtle movement. One design appears to be a compass, another some kind of military insignia—details I hadn't been able to make out from a distance.
I swallow hard.
"What do you think?" he repeats, his tone amused.
I think I'm in so much trouble.
I swallow. Hard.
"...I don't know."
His smirk returns. "You don't remember?"
I groan, covering my face with both hands. "Just tell me."
He laughs, amused as hell, clearly enjoying my mortification. "Well... you told me I smelled like mulch."
My hands drop. "I didwhat?"
“And you did get naked in front of me."
I choke on air. "WHAT?!"
"I mean, just a little," he says. The amusement in his voice is impossible to miss.
I stare at him, horrified, my face burning with embarrassment.
He finally gives in, shaking his head. "Relax, Russo. Nothing happened. You came home, got into bed, and pretty much immediately passed out."
I exhale, pressing a hand to my chest. "Jesus. Don't do that."
"Too easy."
I narrow my eyes at him. The tension drains from my shoulders, leaving behind only the dull throb of my hangover.
