Shameless(45)

“Well, then,” she says with a sigh. “Good luck with that. Here ya go.”

And then she shucks off my t-shirt, tossing it in my direction, before she stalks out of the room stark naked.

I should be happy that she took the hint, but I’m not. I call out her name, but she doesn’t return, and I don’t go after her.



By morning, I’m pretty sure I’m the biggest douchewad on the planet. This beautiful, amazing girl lets me go down on her and I repay her with some bullshit excuse. I almost want to punch myself in the face.

I get up early because I can’t sleep and grab Izzy when she wakes up so we can let Kat sleep in. And I’m thinking my level of douchebaggery requires more than an apology. So I start by making her breakfast.

But Izzy and I aren’t very good at keeping down the noise because I’ve only scrambled the eggs when Izzy drops her bowl of Cheerios. It goes clattering over the hard wood floor.

A few seconds later, Kat comes sliding into the kitchen wearing her glasses and an oversized t-shirt, looking rumpled as hell and cute as f*ck. Her hair is wild around her shoulders and her bare legs have me swelling in my track pants.

I want to toss her over my shoulder and finish what we started last night, but the look on her face when we make eye contact tells me I have some groveling to do first. I’m ready to own my own bullshit. I hope she understands.

“Kat, I’m sorry about last ni—”

“Don’t.” She tosses her hair into a ponytail and grabs a broom to sweep up the cereal on the floor. Her face is flushed like she’s embarrassed to be around me. Awesome.

“Katherine. Come on. I need to talk to you.”

When she stands, her expression is icy. “Do you really want to do this? Add insult to injury?” Her voice is raspy with sleep. She lifts her chin. “I got your message loud and clear, Casanova. We’re good. Let me do my job and get Izzy fed.”

Ouch.

“Okay, I deserved that. But let me explain.”

When she finishes cleaning the cereal, she pours herself a cup of coffee and glares at me over the lip of her mug. “I’m not sure anything you could say would excuse the hard diss you gave me last night, so maybe we should just spare ourselves this conversation altogether. I have shit I need to do anyway.”

Wow. She’s really pissed.

I blow out a breath. All right. I should man up and give it to her straight.

Stalking closer, I grab her shoulders. She gasps, but doesn’t move. “Stop being so damn stubborn and listen.” That glare intensifies, and I seriously think I might be in danger of losing a nut right now, but I take a fortifying breath and continue. “I like you. A lot. And I don’t want to hurt you. Izzy and I are moving back to Boston in a few weeks or maybe months. Hell, I don’t know. That’s the point. And the last thing I should be doing is getting involved with you.”

Her lips thin into a straight line. Yeah, I’m not helping my case here.

“What I’m trying to say—and not doing a very good job of it—is that I’d love nothing more than to spend whatever time I have here with you doing any assortment of dirty, naked things. But you work for me. I don’t want you to feel some weird kind of obligation or feel like I’m perving on you.”

I sigh and release her shoulders to run my hands through my hair. “Look, last week was rough, and I know you’re vulnerable. I don’t want to take advantage of you. You’re an awesome girl. If we were in Boston, you’re absolutely the kind of woman I’d go for. And not just for a fling. I might be a dick for how I handled last night, but you have to know I have your best interest at heart. Because the very last thing I want to do is hurt you when I leave.”

Her lips flatten more. “Are you done?”

Um. That’s not very promising. “Yeah.”

“Great. Thanks for the pep talk. This was fun. I’m glad you think so highly of my own ability to care for myself and make good decisions.” She huffs a breath. “Why am I not surprised? No one else seems to think I can take care of myself.” Then she tosses up her hands and goes off in Spanish.

“Por qué todo el mundo me patrocinar? Mi padre, mi madre, toda mi familia, y ahora tú?”

I have no idea what she’s saying, but just when I don’t think she could get any more attractive, she yells at me in Spanish. I shouldn’t be turned on right now.

Her eyes are wild, her hair in complete disarray, and her mouth is moving a million miles an hour. I want her. Right the f*ck now.

My restraint is hanging by a thread, and when she pokes me in the shoulder, I snap.

I grab her and crush her lips to mine. She pushes me once and then yanks on my hair and pulls me closer. I crowd her against the pantry, away from the kitchen table where Izzy is probably playing with her breakfast.

Kat whimpers into my mouth.

“Shut up,” I tell her between kisses. “I never want you to think I don’t believe in you.” And then I pick her up, and she crosses her ankles behind my back as I press her to the wall.

One very deep kiss later, I pause and rest my forehead against her. We're both panting. “I’m sorry. I know I was an ass. I panicked. I’m under a lot of pressure, and I wasn’t thinking clearly.” I close my eyes for a second and then tell her the God’s honest truth. “I just—I have so much responsibility right now. If we were to do this, it couldn’t mean more than a good distraction for both of us. And I don’t know if I feel right about that. I meant what I said—the last thing I want to do is hurt you.”