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“Yeah, I just—” Oh shit! My bag! It’s still up in Carson’s room. Darting a look at my father, I softly murmur, “I just need to get my bag.”
“Okay.”
Dad starts looking around, and I have no choice but to murmur, “It’s upstairs.”
“Upstairs?” Dad’s frown feels like a laser beam right through my skull. I avoid eye contact and nod, stepping out of his hold and limping toward the stairs. “What’s it doing upstairs? You said you slept on the couch.”
I ignore him, grabbing the railing and starting my awkward climb back up.
“Nylah,” Dad tries to stop me, but Sienna, like an angel from heaven, sweeps down the hallway with Zoey in her arms.
“Coach Jones. Hi.” Her voice is bright and cheerful as she pulls my father in for a hug. “How are you this morning?”
“Uh… yes. I’m fine. Good. Thank you.”
“Zoey, this is Daddy’s football coach.”
“Foobawl.” Zoey giggles, and my dad’s a goner.
Thank you, Sienna!
I’m guessing Zander told her what he saw me doing with Carson this morning, and she’s saving the entire house from a nuclear meltdown right now. Bless her forever!
Reaching the top step, I limp into Carson’s room and only then think about how the hell I’m going to get back down again. He carried me this morning, but I doubt he’ll want to do that in front of my dad.
Carson’s already waiting for me, holding my bag out and whispering, “I can’t believe we forgot.”
“I know, right?” I snort and roll my eyes. “Thought we had it covered, but that’s okay.”
“What are you going to say when he asks you why it was up here?”
I shrug. “Not sure yet. Sienna’s distracting him for now, thank God, and hopefully he’ll forget to ask.”
Carson nods, but he looks kind of stressed, and I impulsively reach for him.
I know Dad’s just downstairs, but we’re hidden from sight right now, and I just need to kiss this man.
“Nylah, don’t?—”
I cut him off with my lips, sweeping my tongue into his mouth and loving the way he gives in to my touch.
With a sharp inhale through his nose, he grips my hip and steps up against me. His arm comes around my waist, securing me to his chest while his tongue—warm and delicious—takes me on a quick trip around the moon.
“Nylah? You okay up there?” Dad calls up the stairs.
I reluctantly pull away from Carson, although I enjoy his heated gaze as he trails his eyes across my face, then licks his bottom lip.
“I’ll see you around,” I whisper, brushing my lips across his before turning and limping back toward the stairs.
“Wait.” He catches my wrist, his eyebrows twitching as he pulls in a breath, then lifts me into his arms.
“What are you doing?”
“You’re not walking down the stairs with your leg like this.”
“But—”
He appears at the top of the stairs before I can argue, and the second Dad spots him, his eyes turn from mild concern to a look that screams,“Not on my watch!”