Page 83 of Between Steel and Secrets
There’s clearly a lot of arguing happening between Luca and Harper. The last thing I want is for Bristol to catch wind of what they’re fighting about.
“How about we head to bed?” I ask, offering her my hand. I lead her to the bedroom and let her get dressed in her pajamas while I close up for the night.
I shut off the lights and make sure the house is secure before joining Bristol in my bedroom.
I give a soft knock on my door.
“Come in,” she answers.
I step into the room that I’ve been in hundreds of times, but this time it feels different.
The air is charged, heated.
It’s Bristol’s presence, no doubt, that makes it feel that way.
She’s seated on my mattress, her legs buried under the covers. She nervously chews her bottom lip, and I strip down to my boxers.
Her nervousness exudes off and straight onto me.
My stomach roils, and I force a smile. “We’re just going to sleep. Okay?”
Relief floods her face. “Okay. Can we talk, though, or is that off-limits?”
Smiling, I pull back the covers and stretch out, joining her in my bed.
I never thought I’d see the day that Bristol Greyson is in my bed with me. Maybe as a cruel joke, but not because she likes me.
She does like me, doesn’t she?
Worry starts edging its way into my head.
Bristol scoots down farther on the mattress, coming to lie on her side, staring at me. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she whispers.
“Maybe I have.” I reach for the bedside lamp and shut it off, basking the room in darkness. “Or maybe I just never expected to find you in my bed.”
She chuckles softly and wraps her arms around my waist, instantly curling into me.
It’s a nice feeling, her body cocooned to mine. I pull her closer, tighter, resting my chin on the top of her head.
“Hey, don’t do that.” She wiggles free and my cock responds to her lower body movements.
Down, boy.
Now is not the time for that.
I mean, yes, we’re in bed together, but she doesn’t seem ready, and that’s a hard no for me.
I should consider driving her home, but it’s late, and she hasn’t asked to leave.
I take that as a sign that she wants to stay, or maybe it’s just me feeling foolishly hopeful.
She rests her head on her pillow, her eyes sparkling in the darkness as I stare at her, unable to look away.
“Can we talk about that game earlier?” I ask.
Bristol shifts, but I can’t tell if she’s shrugging or just getting comfortable. The bed dips slightly, and then she answers, “Maybe. What do you want to talk about, Liam?”
“Why did you ask me if my father is mafia?”
