Page 33 of Outlier

“Yes, well. I supposed the other girls you kiss are all much more proficient and?—”

“Vicky.” His voice was still hoarse. “That was the best kiss I’ve ever had, bar none, experienced or otherwise. And I realise this makes me a goddamn caveman, but I’m fucking thrilled you’ve not kissed any other bastard before. And after that description you gave me, I’m using all of my self-control not to pick you up off that counter, carry you up to my bed, and make you mine in every other way there is.”

I smiled at him. “Oh, that sounds great. Let’s do that.”

He groaned. “Baby, please. I’m hanging on by a thread here.” He tore his hand through his hair again. “I am not going to take advantage of you after what happened tonight. I’m enough of a bastard already to have kissed you like that. If I take it further, I won’t have to wait for your brother to punch me in the face—I’ll do it myself.”

Chapter 13

Stop talking

Mike

“Hey.”

I looked up from the frying pan to see Vicky standing at the bottom of my spiral staircase in my flannel shirt, looking at me with wide eyes. In a superhuman feat of self-control, I’d slept on the sofa last night after showing her up to my bed and leaving her there to sleep alone.

She cleared her throat.

“I’m sorry I slept so long. I should have warned you. After a period of stress, I… well, I tend to sleep a lot. I think it’s a way of my brain protecting itself, of recharging. At least, that’s what Abdul says.”

I abandoned flipping the bacon as my eyes shot back to her and narrowed. “Who’s Abdul?”

My attempt at a casual tone came out distinctly growly, but I suspected it was the best I could do after last night.

I knew it wasn’t reasonable, but the Neanderthal in me had claimed Vicky already.

She was mine.

I’ve never wanted to kiss anyone before.

The overpowering sense of possessiveness that swept through me at that statement was definitely in caveman territory. But now hearing another’s man name on her lips had sent me and my monkey brain into a flat spin.

She shrugged, completely oblivious to my internal struggle not to march over there, sling her over my shoulder, and make sure my name was the only thing she was calling out.

My grip tightened on the spatula until my knuckles turned white.

“He’s my therapist,” she said in a small voice, and I felt that animal part of me relax.

But then I noticed the pink in her cheeks and her hands coming up to her ears. She covered the movement by tucking her hair behind them, but I could tell there had been some sort of minor trigger in admitting to me that she had a therapist.

I wasn’t sure why she would be embarrassed about that, but I knew I should tread carefully here.

“Oh right. That’s good that you have…” Christ, I wasn’t great at this sensitive stuff. “I mean, he sounds like he knows what he’s on about. So that’s good.”

“I…” she shifted on her feet, still at the bottom of the stairs, and still too bloody far away from me. “I never used to see therapists. My mother…” Vicky broke off and looked to the side for a moment until focusing back on me. “Well, I do now, and he does help me.”

“That’s really good, love,” I said in a soft tone.

She bit her lip and wrapped her arms around herself as she glanced around the cabin.

“Vicky?” I said, my voice still soft. Her gaze snapped to me. “Is there a reason you’re all the way over there?”

“What?” she asked in confusion.

“Baby, do you regret what happened last night? Because?—”

“Absolutely not,” she said in a firm voice.