To the Stars (Thatch #2)(12)

When I thought it was safe to move, I pulled out and immediately got off my bed and headed toward the bathroom.

“Oh my God, that was amazing. Really, so amazing. Thank you so much. Oh, I just can’t. I can’t. Oh my God.”

After disposing of the barely used condom, I gripped the sink and bit back a groan as she continued talking.

“Come back to bed. I need to have snuggles after sex.”

“Snuggles?” I whispered, and looked over my shoulder.

“If you take any longer in there, I’m going to be ready for another round by the time you get back here!”

I rolled my eyes and pushed away from the sink, but as soon as I was in my room, I searched for clothes to put on.

She sat up and looked at me with wide eyes. “What are you doing? Aren’t we going to snuggle?”

“Uh, snuggle? No, not today. I have work in . . .” I glanced down to my bare wrist and made a face. “Actually right now. So you need to go.”

“Oh really? Are you sure, I mean I can stay here. I can cook for you when you get back and stuff. Or I can just be here in your bed ready for another go; it will be great. I’ll wait for you.”

I paused from where I was grabbing a clean shirt—one that she hadn’t touched—and gave her a look like she’d lost her mind. “I’m sorry, what was that last thing you said?”

She looked around like she had to think about it, then said in an unsure voice, “I’ll wait for you?”

I huffed and went back to getting dressed, but didn’t look at her again. “Yeah, no, I don’t need anyone waiting for me. But like I said, I’m late for work, so I need you to go.”

I heard her scoff as she got off the bed, and in less than a minute she was storming out of my room. By the loud “Oh!” that came from my roommates not long after, I’d bet she left while carrying her clothes.

“Well, damn, what’d you do? She seemed like she was going to be easy to keep happy, Knox, and she was thinking of a hundred ways to kill you when she left.”

I turned around to look at Deacon, one of my roommates as well as longtime best friend, and shrugged. “She was. It was just time for her to go.” I walked past him into the living room, and a smile crossed my face when I saw my favorite girl walking toward our kitchen.

“Good God, Grey, pregnancy looks damn good on you!” Hooking an arm around her neck, I pulled her close to kiss the top of her head, then released her. Keeping my eyes trained on her brother, Graham—my other roommate and best friend—I said loudly, “When are you going to tell your husband that it’s really my child, and you’re madly in love with me?”

Graham turned to glare at me, but before he could say anything, Deacon cut in: “Dude, you know it’s my baby. Stop trying to steal my girl.”

“Both of you can f*ck off,” Graham grumbled. “It’s bad enough knowing my sister had sex.”

Jagger, Grey’s husband, just laughed and nodded in my direction before starting up his conversation with Graham again. Deacon and I had been declaring our “love” for Graham’s sister ever since we were sixteen just to piss him off. Neither of us saw her as anything other than family, but he was the only one who never understood that.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” Grey asked, and I looked down at her with my brow furrowed.

“What?”

She gestured toward the front door with her head. “My husband and I just had to see one of your nasty naked skanks walk through here, so you at least owe me an apology for that, Knox Alexander. But she looked pissed, and I know the only time you piss off women is when they realize you won’t be calling them again, so what happened?”

The smile slipped from my face, and I shrugged as I looked up to focus on the wall behind Grey. “Nothing. Like I told Deacon, it was just time for her to go.”

“And I think you’re lying to me,” she whispered.

My gaze darted back to Grey’s gauging expression, and I dropped my voice to her same level. “Drop it, Grey.”

She opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, Jagger came up behind her. “That girl looked pissed, Knox. I mean, not like the rest of them don’t, but it’s usually well after the fact.”

Grey raised an eyebrow, and I shook my head. “You guys keep saying that like there’s a lot of them or something.”

Both of them laughed, and Grey said, “Are you kidding? Knox, I’ve never known you not to have at least four girls a week.”

I swallowed thickly, and wondered how I had turned into this guy. But it didn’t take long to remember that it didn’t matter anymore anyway. It stopped mattering four and a half years ago, right about the time I turned into Deacon and Graham.

Grey abruptly stopped laughing. “Except . . .” She trailed off, and her eyes narrowed like she was trying to sort through the jumbled mess in my head. “Except when you were in college,” she mumbled softly.

I shook my head slowly. “Don’t,” I warned, but judging from the way Grey’s eyes widened, there hadn’t been enough force behind the word.

She briefly glanced over to where Deacon and Graham were standing in the living room watching a baseball game, then whispered, “Is that what’s wrong, Knox?”

“Grey,” I began again, but her next word brought me up short.