Down and Out(35)

Savannah glances back and forth between me and my brother, then climbs off the bed. “I’ll, uh, go make us some breakfast,” she says, slipping past him.
“Your girl seems nice,” he says, coming to sit on the edge of the bed.
“She’s not my girl, she’s my employee.”
He cocks his brow. “You call all your employees ‘Kitten’ and let them shower at your place?”
At my scowl, he smirks. “Didn’t think so.” He looks over his shoulder at the empty doorway, then lowers his voice. “Is she good in the sack? ’Cause she’s got these perky little—”
“Don’t make me get up and kick your ass, ’cause you know I will.” I’m still pissed he saw her naked, and him describing her funbags to me is like a swift kick in the balls.
He pauses in the middle of gesturing a pair of tits over his chest and stares back at me, dumbfounded. “Since when do you not kiss and tell?”
I roll my eyes and rest my head against the pillow. I stopped telling Blake about my sex life when I was fifteen. He’s the one who can’t bag a chick without telling the whole world about it. “There’s nothing to tell. Honest to God, I haven’t seen her naked.” Although technically I have been inside her. . .
A slow grin spreads across his face. “You’re trying to get with her, though, right?” At my unmoved stare, it vanishes. “Declan, tell me you’re trying.”
Sighing, I stare up at the ceiling. “I’m her boss, Blake.” I should at least try and not cross that line. Well, I should try harder not to cross that line.
Although at this point, let’s be honest—that smart little mouth of hers gets my dick harder than any other girl’s body ever could, and when you factor in that she’s smokin’ hot too?
I don’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell.
Damn it, I like her. Like really like her.
“So? I’m telling you, Declan, seeing that body was like—”
“Dude. Salt, wound.” I don’t need to hear how great her body is. From what I’ve seen, it’s phenomenal. Believe me, I know.
My sides feel like they’re about to split open as I try and sit up. That might have something to do with the Ace bandage wrapped around my ribs.
Blake helps me rearrange the pillows behind my back, his face turning somber. “You know who did this to you?”
“I got a pretty good idea.”
He scans my injuries and says, “Well, whoever tried to work you over didn’t do a very good job. Aside from what’s probably a few broken ribs, it’s mostly just bruising.”
I nod as things turn quiet. It’s surreal to have awkward conversational lulls with Blake. If you’d told me ten years ago that our relationship would devolve to this weird stalemate, I’d have called you a liar.
He clears his throat, and I can tell he’s just as uncomfortable as me. “I’m glad she called me last night.”
I don’t have the heart to tell him he wasn’t my first pick—that Marcus had been the first one to pop into my head, until I somehow managed to remember he had his kid last night.
Blake rubs his chin and says, “She tried real hard to get me to take you to the hospital. Told her it was a no-go, and when she asked me why. . .”
He won’t look at me, which isn’t a good sign.
“What’d you tell her?”
“Nothing, but she knows something’s up now, so. . . Just a heads-up.”
Savannah chooses that moment to return, holding two big plates of food. Her eyes dart back and forth between me and Blake, and it’s obvious she knows we were talking about her. I just hope she didn’t hear what we said.
“Am I interrupting?” she asks, still watching us both cautiously.
Blake stands. “Nope, I was just leaving.”
Savannah frowns as she walks around to my side and hands me a plate. “Are you sure? There’s plenty of food.”
“Nah, I’m good. Thanks, though.” Blake salutes us as he leaves, and a few seconds later, the front door opens, then closes.
This french toast smells amazing, and makes me realize just how hungry I am. I dig in, practically shoveling it into my mouth, when I notice she’s looking at me weird. “What?”
Taking Blake’s spot on the bed, she shakes her head. “Nothing, I. . . I’m glad you’re okay.” She steadfastly avoids my gaze as her fork aimlessly pushes around the food on her plate. “It would’ve sucked if you weren’t.”
“Whoa, calm down, Kitten. Don’t get so emotional.”
She looks up at me under those mile-long lashes, her mouth twisting into a reluctant grin. “I’ve never worried about anyone but myself before. I’m not good at it.”
“So you were worried about me.”
She frowns, murmuring, “I was terrified.”
You have to care about someone in order to worry about them, but I’m not about to point that out to her. Savannah seems like the type to spook easily, and the last thing I want to do is scare her off.
I set my plate on the nightstand. “You know, I really could use that hug right now.”
Savannah sets her fork on her plate and leans in, about to wrap her free hand around my neck when I say, “Are you seriously trying to one-arm hug me right now?”
She freezes. “Yes?”
Wow. I have so much to teach this girl.
“Uh-uh.” I take her plate and set it next to mine. “Both hands.”
“What’s the difference?”
The corner of my mouth lifts. “You’ll see.”