Rowdy (Marked Men #5)(35)

He turned away and I heard the boys’ excited chatter and the teenage girls’ collective sigh. I couldn’t blame them. Watching him move while he was only half dressed was definitely a show not to be missed.

I got back to the apartment and gave the puppy some water. I decided I needed to take a shower since I was covered in sunscreen and had bits of grass stuck to me from sitting on the ground all afternoon. When I got out of the shower I put on a sundress that was fitted on top but flared out at the waist—very June Cleaver style—and left my hair wet and unstyled and my feet bare. I was so used to being polished, all shiny and perfect, that being casual at home was just starting to feel comfortable. My quirky and polished style was the armor I wore to show the world and in some way, my dad, that I could look how I wanted, act how I wanted, and still be a successful, beautiful person entirely of my own making. It was strange that Rowdy seemed to prefer the scrubbed-down, bare version of me but I wasn’t going to complain. Looking flawless and put together all the time took a lot of work and sometimes I just didn’t want to put forth the effort.

I never really shared what had happened after I left Loveless with anyone. I had learned some hard lessons and made choices I wasn’t exactly proud of, but I had made it on my own and that was something I would never let anyone take away from me. I never had to go back or ask my parents for anything and that alone was enough to shadow the shame and regret that was attached to some of my more impulsive decisions. I carved my own path when it would have been so much easier to relent, and I had done it with my own style and my own flair, which was why I had decided it was okay for me to live my life on my own terms even if that meant not staying in any one place for very long.

That was part of what was confusing me about this situation with Rowdy. I never hesitated to go after what I wanted, to make my intentions known. But he was tangled up in the past and he had cared deeply for someone I loved irrevocably and that just made the whole mess so complicated that it made my head hurt. Even if Poppy hadn’t returned his feelings, I didn’t like the idea that I was just a substitute for the sister that had gotten away from him. I had way too much to offer to settle for being anyone’s fill-in. This time just doing whatever I felt like didn’t seem like it was going to come consequence free.

I was scrounging around in the fridge looking for something to make for lunch and the pickings were slim. I wasn’t exactly a gourmet cook and I lived right off one of the main roads that ran through Denver, so spending time in the kitchen wasn’t something I did very often. I decided that peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and some potato chips were going to have to do and figured Rowdy would be all right with it considering our entire day had been spent reliving moments from our youth. I was putting the sandwiches on a plate when there was a sharp knock at the door that had Jimbo rousing from his nap and barking.

I pulled to door open while I was licking the last of the peanut butter off the knife. Rowdy was propped up on the other side, still missing his shirt and even more rumpled and sweaty than he had been an hour ago when I left him in the park. His shirt was hanging like a tail out of the back of his jeans and all the ink that covered him was glistening like wet paint across his smooth skin. His blond hair was messy and falling across his forehead and his aqua-colored eyes were blazing like a beacon out of his face.

I let the hand with the knife fall to my side as we stared silently at each other. His gaze drifted over my damp hair, across my startled face, and down to my bare feet. He took one step inside the door, which forced me to take one back.

“Did you win?” I sounded shaky and nervous even though I didn’t really feel uncertain. I was way more along the lines of breathless and needy.

“Oh, I think I’m about to win for sure.” A sexy smirk pulled at the edges of his mouth. “Do you have anything on under that dress?”

It was a bold question followed by him taking the knife from me and tossing it dangerously in the direction of the kitchen. It clattered loudly as it landed in the sink, and even that wasn’t enough to drown out the sound of my heart pounding loudly in my ears. He was totally in my face and I knew that sandwiches were no longer on the menu for lunch.

I was.

“Why don’t you find out for yourself?” I could play this game with him. After all, there had to be an offense and a defense in order for there to be a game in the first place.

He growled at me low in his throat and kicked the door shut behind him with the sole of his sneaker as he prowled toward me. He didn’t stop coming at me until we were pressed right up against each other. He smelled like the outside and the grass from the park. He felt hard and strong and any idea that this was still the boy next door melted away as the erection bulging at the front of his jeans came into contact with my stomach. His eyes burned hotter than the summer sky, and when he slid his hands around, underneath the thick fall of my still-wet hair, I felt like it was all too much and I was just going to melt in a puddle of anticipation and longing at his feet.

He didn’t say anything else, just started walking in the direction of the bedroom, forcing me to match him step for step as he waltzed me backward. The bluesy and folksy sound of Old Crow Medicine Show wafted out of the bedroom, guiding his way in the right direction.

“I stink.” His voice was gruff and sent chills racing up and down my spine as we backed into the darkened bedroom. My bed wasn’t even made and half of my wardrobe was lying across the floor. None of it slowed him down as he kept his pace going until the back of my legs hit the edge of my bed.