Bad Intentions (Bad Love #2)(44)

“Cord, watch the door and listen for the phone for me?”

“Sure thing.”

I offer my palm to Lo, and this time she slips her hand into mine without hesitation. It’s small and warm against my skin. I lead her to the drawing room, hoping to convey with my eyes that I’m not going to freak out on her again while simultaneously hoping I can keep the unspoken promise.

Once inside, Lo leans her back against the door, closing it with a quiet snick. I take a seat on the couch, patting the space next to me. Lo angles her body toward me, one leg bent on the couch, one foot on the floor. I scrub both hands through my hair, not knowing where to begin.

“You don’t know how he found you?” She mentioned that he had ways of finding things out, and the fact that this guy not only got ahold of her number but her whereabouts doesn’t sit well with me.

“I have no idea. I haven’t told anyone where we are—” Lo stops short, eyes widening in realization. “My mom,” she says, shaking her head. “My fucking mother. Jess slipped up. Let her know where we were staying. It’s the only thing that makes sense. She’s the reason he has my phone number, too, I’m sure.”

“Stay with me tonight,” I say, surprising us both.

“What?” She’s taken aback by the sudden shift in conversation, but it makes perfect sense in my mind. Her ex is a threat. My house is safe. Simple.

“Stay with me,” I say more firmly this time. “We don’t know if he’s going to show up at your house or your job again tomorrow.” This guy doesn’t seem like he has any intention of giving up.

“I told you, he’s not dangerous. Besides, I can’t just leave Jess…”

“Goddammit, Lo. The guy manhandled you. Don’t tell me he’s not dangerous. He stalked you. He’s not going after your fucking brother.”

Lo sucks in a breath, her eyes rolling toward the ceiling, clearly losing patience. She pulls out her phone and taps at the screen for a minute before addressing me.

“Oh,” she says, a shocked expression on her face.

“What?”

“Jess is out to dinner…with Henry.”

“That’s good, right?” I ask, unable to read her reaction.

“It’s really good.” She taps out another text. “He also has no idea Eric’s in town. He would’ve been blowing my phone up.” She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, thinking, before continuing, “I’m not going to bother him with this tonight. Jess hates him. He’d just worry if he knew, and he has enough on his plate.”

“So, you’ll come home with me tonight.”

“What did you tell Eric? How did you guys get him to leave?” Lo ignores my statement.

“Nothing.” I shrug. “He realized it was a fight he couldn’t win.” With a few friendly words and a not-so-friendly send-off from Matty, but I leave that part out.

“I don’t have a ride home,” Lo admits, as if suddenly remembering. “Jess has the car.”

“So it’s settled. You’re staying at my place. Friends, remember?”




The second half of my shift seemed to drag on longer than the goddamn Cold War. I don’t know what I was thinking…insisting she stay over when I can’t touch her. Just friends. Just this once, we’d said.

Now she’s here, on my couch, in my space. It’s completely foreign, having her here, yet something about it just fits.

“Do you want me to wash your clothes?” I ask, gesturing to her work shirt. She never ended up changing like she usually does after her shift at Blackbear.

“God, yes. I smell like grease.”

She doesn’t, but I don’t argue. Instead, I tell her to wait there while I change into a pair of gray sweatpants and a white T-shirt before grabbing extras for her.

She stands when I approach, holding out the clothes for her to take. “Bathroom’s—” I start, but Lo strips off her shirt, letting it fall the floor. Next is her bra. It’s simple and white, and I can see the outline of her pink nipples through the thin material.

“What are you doing?” I ask, swallowing hard as she turns her back to me, then reaches behind to unclasp the band.

“Getting dressed,” she says simply, holding her hand out in my direction. I toss her the shirt, and she pulls it over her head. She turns back around, my shirt hitting mid-thigh, then pulls down her pants and underwear together in one move. I hand her the sweatpants and she unfolds them, holding them in front of her hips before tossing them at my chest.

“Too big,” she explains, and my mind is instantly in the gutter. Lo scoops up her discarded clothes. “Where’s your washer?”

“I’ll take them.” Lo hesitates but hands them over and sits down on my couch cross-legged, her shirt riding up to her thighs but still managing to cover her bare pussy. I clench my teeth together and turn for the laundry room to keep myself from spreading those thighs open and burying my face between them. I look down at the pile of clothes in my hands, a scrap of white material sticking out of her jeans, and I mutter a curse under my breath before tossing them into the washer.

“You don’t have a TV?” Lo asks when I return. It’s always everyone’s first question.

“Nope. You hungry?” I open the fridge, looking for something to offer her, even though I basically only have beer, water, and eggs.