Rory’s jaw ticks, and it’s laughable how much better a boyfriend he is, even when we’re faking. Even when we’ve moved into something that doesn’t feel like faking.
“But I’m fine. Truly.”
“Good.” He leans forward, careful not to put his weight on my ankle or wrist, and gives me a quick kiss.
When he sits up again, he frowns.
“Why’s it so cold in here?” he demands, stalking over to the thermostat. “I keep turning it up but it’s freezing.” He moves to the radiator, hovering his hand over the elements before giving me an outraged look. “The heat isn’t working.”
I gesture at the front hall closet. “There’s a space heater in there.”
His outraged look intensifies. “Hazel.”
“What?”
He stands, putting his hands on his trim hips, and my gaze lingers on those V muscles pointing into his waistband. Heat builds between my legs and I squeeze my thighs together.
Being around Rory is making me hornier by the second. It’s the way he smells, the way his morning voice sounds, the way he kept a protective arm around me all night.
Even his messed-up bedhead is fucking hot.
“Wow.” He folds his roped arms across his chest, amused. “Really?”
I raise an eyebrow. “What?”
“You’re ogling me.”
I bite back a laugh as electricity thrills through me. “You don’t look like you mind.”
“Of course I don’t.” He gives me that lazy, flirty smile that makes my pulse stutter before his grin drops. “Okay, but it’s really cold in here.” He glances through the window up at the sky. “It’s supposed to go below freezing today.”
I point at the closet again but he cuts me off.
“We are not using a space heater.” His expression says he means business, and I bite back another smile.
“I like it when you’re bossy.”
At my bedside table, he picks up my phone and hands it to me. “Call your landlord.”
“He’s in Greece for the month.”
“So call whoever does these things when he’s away.”
My smile pulls into a reluctant wince, and Rory knows immediately that there is no guy who does the maintenance when the landlord is away.
“Hazel.”
“This is why my place is so cheap.”
His head falls back and he groans loudly, like I’m the most frustrating person alive.
I just smile at him. “Your eyes are so pretty in the morning light.”
He gives me a side-long look, sighing, but he’s starting to smile. “Don’t distract me.”
“Is it working?” He rolls his eyes, and I think I like this flipped dynamic between us. “That means yes.”
He runs his fingers through his hair, glancing around my place. “Where’s your overnight bag?”
“Why?”
He finds it in the closet, pulling it out and setting it on the bed. “We’re going to my place.”
CHAPTER 56
HAZEL
“Wow.”
In the foyer of Rory’s apartment, my jaw drops. I take a few steps forward on the crutches, looking around.
“You’ve been holding out on me, Miller.”
Behind me, holding my bag, he watches me, his gaze unsure and assessing. “Yeah?”
I nod, eyes bouncing from the warm wood flooring to the giant green L-shaped couch to the midday sun streaming through the impossibly tall windows. Snow is starting to fall outside. A massive TV hangs between two built-in bookshelves that reach to the ceiling. There’s nothing on the shelves, though.
I frown, scanning the sparse living room with two lamps, the big sofa, and a coffee table, and then the large, open-concept kitchen with a massive island and gleaming appliances.
I tilt my chin at the bookshelves. “You’re supposed to put things on those shelves.”
“Like what?” The corner of his mouth kicks up.
“Photos and trinkets and books.” There’s nothing on the walls—no art or framed pictures. No blankets thrown over the couch. I crutch farther into the apartment, down the long hallway. A door at the end leads to what looks like the master bedroom, and Rory’s soft footsteps follow behind.
At the doorway, I take in the king-size bed with a forest-green duvet. Warmth twinges in my stomach because I’m going to sleep in that bed tonight and it’s going to be the best sleep of my life. The windows overlook the city, same as the rest of the apartment, and on the balcony sits a hot tub.