Fighting Fate (Fighting #7)(16)
I think he means for making the bed, but something heavy in his tone has me second-guessing. “You’re welcome.” I hop up to head for the bathroom.
“Ax.”
I stop and turn to him, his eyes heavy with something, regret maybe?
“Never mind.”
“Okay.” I head into the bathroom to get ready to go home and can’t help but wonder if he’s holding back as much as I am.
*
Killian
My stomach’s growling again by the time I pull up to Axelle’s to drop her off. Her place is much nicer than mine—a two-bedroom apartment in a gated complex with assigned parking spots. There’s plenty of lighting in the lot as well as surveillance cameras. Blake insisted after she lived her first year in the dorms that she move somewhere safe, and he made it his mission to find the safest complex near the university.
It worked out that Axelle ended up meeting Mindy her first year. They weren’t roommates but lived on the same floor, and both were itching for off-campus living. Money wasn’t a factor seeing as Mindy’s family are heirs to some heating blanket fortune or some shit. So yeah, my girl is living in luxury, albeit college style, but still her place is sick AF.
I throw the Jeep into visitor parking and walk her to her door. Things have been quiet between us since our talk over breakfast. Fuck, seeing her wake up in my bed, her bare leg thrown over the comforter and all that hair tossed around her face, made me imagine things that are far from innocent. At one point in the night, she curled up to me and slid her palm up my stomach to my chest. I’ve never felt anything like it. I tried to convince myself she knew exactly where she was and who she was touching, but the truth is she probably had no f*cking clue. Most likely she thought she was sleeping with that dick Clifford, which makes me want to slam the *’s face into a brick wall.
I walk her to her door, and because she doesn’t have a key, she has to ring her own doorbell.
A little over a minute later a guy answers. He rubs his hand over his cropped hair and squints into the sun. “Oh, hey…um…” His eyes dip to his waist where he’s sporting nothing but a pair of boxer briefs. “Sorry, I’m…” His bloodshot eyes take in Axelle from head to toe, and I almost pull her back to stand behind me, but luckily his gaze comes to me. “Who are you and where am I?”
Axelle giggles. “You must be the football player?”
“I’m the football player, yeah.”
“I’m Axelle.” She presses a palm against my chest. “This is Killian, and you’re at my apartment with my roommate, Mindy.”
His eyes light with recognition and he grins. “Oh, Mindy. Right. Shit, okay, yeah.” He steps back so we can enter. “My bad. Come on in.” He pats his hips where his pockets should be. “And my pants are…?”
Axelle grabs my hand and leads me through the living room, snagging her purse off the couch on our way to her room. “Don’t mind us. We’ll be in here and won’t bother you.” She closes the door behind us and whirls around to gape at me. “Oh my God, did you see him?”
“Hard not to. He was at the door damn near naked—”
“I know, right?” Her giggles mature into full-blown laughter. “We have to stay in here.”
“So what, now we’re being held hostage in your room until he leaves?”
“Well, duh! Yeah! This is a pivotal moment. How they handle this awkward morning-after will determine what happens from here on out.”
I tilt my head. “You’re serious.”
“Hell yeah, I’m serious. Think about it. This is the final taste, that last bite that makes you either A. want to go back for seconds or B. makes you want to move on to the next place.”
I can’t offer agreement. Obviously, I wouldn’t know. The fact that she does makes me grind my teeth.
Fuck. Play it cool, Killian.
I sigh and flop back onto Axelle’s twin bed, my feet hanging off the end. I remember the day we moved her in and Mindy asked why Ax got such a tiny bed. Blake had said, “It’s not tiny, Mindy; it’s built for one person.” He glared at Axelle, sending the very clear message that dudes were not welcome to warm her sheets. If he had any clue, he’d flip his shit.
She drops her purse on her bedside table and fishes out her phone. I watch her expression morph, her smile fall, and her brows pinch together as she clicks through what I assume to be text messages.
“Everything okay?”
Her gaze jerks to mine, and it’s as if she forgot I was even there. “Oh, yeah. It’s Clifford. Guess he must’ve been worried about me or something.”
“Ha!” Worried. Right. More like disappointed she wasn’t left alone and defenseless in his bed.
“You really don’t like him, do you?”
I stretch one arm up and prop my head on it. “No, that obvious?”
She laughs. “Yeah, it is.”
I shrug. What can I say? Just another dipshit in the lineup of total dicks that compose Axelle’s dating life. The good news is none of her relationships have ever been serious. I know she’s working hard to fill the void her dad—or dads—left behind, and as much as I want to confess that I’m in love with her, I know she’s not ready for it. I’ve got one shot at winning her, and jumping too soon will make me another one of her hole-fillers. Literally.