Page 57 of Unsuitable

Oh dear God.

He undressed me and changed my clothes. I still have my bra and knickers on.

Thank God.

I yank the T-shirt off, getting a lungful of Kas’s scent as it passes over my face. I grab my dress and pull it on. Then, I quickly make the bed.

I grab the glass of water and down it. Taking the glass with me, I grab my shoes and the T-shirt, so I can put it in the laundry.

I let myself out of the bedroom and into the quiet hall.

Heart thumping, clutching my shoes and Kas’s T-shirt to my chest, I make my way downstairs.

I glance at his office door, which is closed.

I have to talk to Kas. First, to thank him for looking out for me. Then, to ask if I still have a job. And, if I don’t, then beg him to give me my job back.

I’m not averse to begging in this instance.

I’ve screwed up so bad.

It won’t look good for me if Toby finds out that I’ve been sacked for getting drunk and behaving like a complete idiot.

And it will look even worse to Anne. It could set me even further back with Jesse.

Not that Jesse and I could get any further back. He wants nothing to do with me.

But I need to prove to him that I’m here to stay. And here to stay means, I need this job.

Taking a deep breath, I head for the kitchen to put the T-shirt in the laundry basket. Then, I’ll go to his office and face the Kas-wrath.

I push open the kitchen door, and my heart falls out of my chest when I see Kas sitting at the kitchen table, staring down at his phone, an empty plate and a cup sitting in front of him.

He’s wearing jeans and a fitted T-shirt that shows off the lines of his body. His hair is a little messier than usual, one side tucked behind his ear.

He looks good. But then he always looks good. I hate that.

His eyes lift from his phone to me.

His look cuts right through me.

“Hey,” I say, swallowing past my nerves.

“Hi.” There’s no tone to his response, giving me nothing as to what he’s thinking.

I move slowly toward him through the kitchen. His eyes stay trained on me the whole time.

I slip into the seat across from him. I put the empty glass on the table, my shoes on the floor next to me, and hold his T-shirt in my lap.

I don’t really know where to start, what to go with. My eyes drift around the room and then hook onto my bag, which is sitting on the counter.

I really need to ring Cece, but I need to speak to him first.

But he beats me to it. “Your phone kept ringing and ringing. I didn’t want to wake you. I figured it must be important, whoever was calling, so I answered it for you. It was your friend, Cece. She was worried that she hadn’t heard from you. I told her that you were here, you were safe, and you’d be home in the morning.”

He spoke to Cece. Oh my God.

Well, at least she wasn’t left worrying about me all night. But that is going to be one hell of an interesting conversation I’ll have with her later.