Elite (Eagle Elite #1)(37)

“You okay?” Monroe asked. “How’s the grandpa? Hmm, why don’t we watch The Proposal or something?”

“No.” I waved my hand in the air. “To all of that.” With a grunt I plopped onto my bed and groaned.

“Hey.” The bed dipped as Monroe came and sat next to me. “It’s fine, I promise. Nixon is… Nixon is. Well, that’s the thing. He’s Nixon. I’m sure he had a good reason for sending you in here and freaking the crap out of you, but let’s not forget how protective brother bear is.”

“Right.” I shivered, not because of fear, but because I hardly think Nixon and I had a brother bear relationship. And if that’s how he would categorize it, then I had a hell of a lot more problems than men in suits and creepy phone calls.

A knock sounded at the door. I flung off the bed. Almost tripping over the blankets, I reached for the door and opened it.

Nixon was leaning against the frame and looking at his cell phone. Without thinking, I pulled him into my arms and hugged him. There go all the rules about no touching or breathing the same air. But I was so freaked out and…

Holy crap, he was like a warm statue and then his arms very slowly wrapped around me.

I was pretty sure, in that moment, that Nixon’s arms were my favorite place to be in the world. Bliss didn’t last all too long. The second I realized he had no bumps or bruises and was texting, yes texting, before I hugged him.

With a shriek I pulled back and smacked him on the chest. “You scared the crap out of me.”

He grinned. “You sure do run fast, Farm Girl. They teach you that in Wyoming?” With a slow wink he walked around me and gave his sister a brief hug.

“Something’s very wrong with you.” I slammed the door and crossed my arms.

“Don’t I know it,” Monroe muttered. “And what the hell, Nixon? You can’t just go scaring my roommate like that. I thought she was going to have a heart attack and tell her grandpa she was witness to your murder.”

“Believe me, her grandpa would not have come to my rescue.” Nixon snorted.

“Hey!” I pointed. “You don’t even know him! He’s a good guy.”

“Did I say he was bad?” Nixon held up his hands in offense. “I just said he wouldn’t come to my rescue.”

“If I asked him to he would,” I argued.

Nixon laughed. “Your innocence is both aggravating and shocking.”

Clenching my fists, I fought the urge to stomp my foot and glared at Monroe. He was her brother. I refused to keep dealing with his mood swings.

“We should watch a movie,” Nixon said after I sat on the bed like a normal human instead of stomping around the room like Godzilla.

“She doesn’t want to,” Monroe said pointing in my direction. Yes, because I’m the one who is not being reasonable right now.

“Who were those guys?” I asked.

Nixon ignored me. “She saw me beat the crap out of two dudes tonight. She should watch something funny.”

Monroe nodded. “A chick flick and maybe some chocolate?”

“Hello!” I waved my hands in the air. “I’m right here.”

Nixon waved back. Bastard. Monroe had yet to look up from the movie selection.

“Nixon.” I hissed his name. “Who were those guys and why did I have to run?”

“Guys from work.” Nixon shrugged. “They just had a few questions about what went down tonight. I just didn’t want you to stay if things got weird and the less people that they know who know about what happened, the better.”

Damn. That did sound convincing. But work? What college student had grown men working for him? It again begged the question, just how old was he? And what type of business… ugh. My brain hurt. “Fine, we’ll watch the stupid movie,” I grumbled.

“Excellent.” Monroe threw the movie at Nixon, who in turn popped it into the computer. He sighed and laid his head on my pillow.

Angry, I jerked the pillow from underneath him and beat him on the head with it.

“What the hell was that for?”

“It slipped.” I shrugged innocently.

“Slipped my ass…”

“Children!” Monroe sang. “Behave or I’m not going to give you snacks.”

“She started it—”

“Nixon Anthony—”

I pinched him and laughed. “She totally middle-named you just now.”

“Trace…” There was a warning edge to her voice, so I shut up and sat as far away from Nixon’s body heat as I could. But it was near impossible, especially when Chase and Tex showed up halfway through the movie. According to Chase, his back hurt when he didn’t have a bed to sit on. Screwy logic, so I let him sit toward the bottom with his back against the wall. My feet would have been touching him, but I sat up. The minute I sat up, Nixon sat up. The minute he sat up, I dipped toward him.

And that was how I ended up falling asleep with my face on his shoulder. At least that’s what I told myself when I woke up at three A.M. to Nixon staring at me like a monster in a horror movie.

“Are you trying to give me nightmares?” I whispered grumpily.

“No.” His voice was hoarse. His arm shot out, and before I could stop him, he had somehow flipped me around so he was spooning me. His hand ran up and down my arm, tracing circles and massaging every inch of exposed skin.