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“Okay, come out here so I can help you get dressed,” I say, standing and grabbing the clothes I’d laid out for him earlier.
Robbie bounds out of the bathroom, his hair sticking up in every direction, damp droplets still clinging to his flushedcheeks. I dry his hair with a towel as he wiggles into his pajamas, his energy still running pretty high despite the endless cannonballs.
“Here’s Rexy,” I say, handing him his beloved stuffed dinosaur once he’s fully dressed.
“Thanks!” he says, hugging it tightly to his chest.
“I’m going to go shower now and get ready for dinner,” I tell him. “Why don’t you go watch something in the sitting room until then?”
“Okay!” He darts out of the room without a second thought, his little feet thudding softly against the carpeted hallway.
I follow at a slower pace, heading toward my room. The day’s events are catching up to me, and all I can think about is getting clean and changed. But as I pass by Cole’s bedroom, I notice something unusual—the door is open.
It’s never open.
My steps falter, curiosity and nervousness warring within me.
Ever since I found out that Robbie wouldn’t be at the gala, the idea has been bothering me. He’d be upstairs the whole night, knowing there was something exciting happening in his own house. It didn’t seem fair. I’d been meaning to talk to Cole about it, but he’dbeen busy all week, so I’d barely seen him.
And, truth be told, I’m just a big chicken. Despite everything that had happened earlier in the week, he still scared the hell out of me.
Even at the pool just an hour ago, his wandering eyes on my bikini-clad body—which, if I’m being honest, I’d worn in the hopes he’d see it—had made me shy away. It’s like my mind hadn’t caught up to the fact that I wasn’t a virgin anymore.
Seeing Cole’s open door seems like a sign. Now might be my chance to talk to him.
I step closer to the doorway, peering inside. The room is dimly lit, the warm light from a bedside lamp casting soft shadows across the dark wood furniture. Before I can take in more details, Cole appears in the doorway, and my breath catches.
He’s freshly showered, his shirt unbuttoned and hanging loose, revealing a glimpse of toned, tanned skin beneath. His gaze locks on mine, and his green eyes heat as they sweep over me.
Oh God. I’m still wearing the bikini.
I can feel my skin flush under his scrutiny, my nipples tightening against the thin fabric of my top. His lips curve into the faintest smirk, and I know he’s noticed.
Not much I can hide in two scraps of fabric.
“I, um…” My voice comes out higher than I’d intended, and I clear my throat. “I have a question. Something I was hoping toask you.”
His smirk deepens. “Ask away.” He steps aside, gesturing for me to come in.
I hesitate, my nerves tangling into a knot in my stomach. The idea of walking into his room feels strangely intimate, almost like crossing an invisible line.
“Annie,” he says, his voice low and teasing, “you’re not scared of me, are you?”
Yes. Terrified.
The way his brow lifts, challenging me, has me squaring my shoulders despite the heat rising to my cheeks. “No, of course not,” I say quickly, stepping inside before I can second-guess myself.
As soon as I’m in the room, he closes the door behind me with a soft click, and the sound feels louder than it should.
I glance around, needing a distraction. The room is just as sleek and polished as the rest of the house, but there’s a personal touch to it that’s missing elsewhere.
The bed is massive, its dark gray comforter neatly smoothed over plush pillows. A large built-in with a bookcase and a massive TV lines one wall. The faint scent of his cologne lingers in the air, and I want to breathe it right into my lungs.
“Well?” His voice pulls me from my thoughts. He’s leaning casually against the door, his arms crossed, his gaze steady on me. “You had a question?”
“Oh, right.” I shake my head, trying to focus. “I wanted to ask aboutRobbie and the gala.”
His brow furrows slightly, and he straightens. “Robbie? What about him?”