Otterly Scorched by Tara Sivec

Author:Tara Sivec [Sivec, Tara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, romance
Publisher: Tara Sivec
Published: 2020-05-19T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER 14

Did I Break Him?

Harley

My eyes slowly open when I’m roused from sleep by the delicious smell of bacon for the second time since my childhood. I don’t jump out of bed and grab my bat like last time, because I know exactly who is out in my kitchen, making me breakfast after letting me sleep off the most mortifying day of my life.

Besides, I already jumped out of bed at two in the morning and grabbed my bat in a complete panic after having a dream about being eaten by a giant can of cheese. Just like I normally do when I wake up in the middle of the night and can’t get back to sleep, I crept through my house to double-check the doors and windows were all locked.

Unlike every other time, I dropped my bat in the middle of my living room floor and almost screamed when I walked into the dark room and saw a man sleeping on my futon. When I slowly moved closer, got a better look at him with the glow of the moonlight shining through my living room window, and realized it was Dax, I sunk down onto my knees next to the couch and just stared at him.

While every single thing I did after I ate those stupid brownies came back to me.

Feeling the need to wash away all the humiliation, I left Dax sleeping and went back to my bedroom, took off the jean shorts and sweater I was still wearing, and scrubbed away my shame and the last of the pot still swirling around in my system. After that, I threw on a clean T-shirt and a pair of cotton shorts, did about an hour-and-a-half of work until I was tired again, crawled back into bed, and hoped I’d wake up to find out this had all been a dream.

My stomach growls, and flashbacks of me screaming about being high in front of Mr. Trevino and rapping about cheese while Dax had to practically carry me to the car flashes through my mind, reminding me none of it was a dream.

Might as well get this over with.

Sliding out of bed, I grab a hoodie tossed over a chair in the corner of my room, sniffing it to make sure it’s clean before pulling it on over my T-shirt. I make my way out of my room and down the hall in my bare feet, my heart fluttering in my chest when I get to the opening to the kitchen and see Dax. He’s standing at the island, scooping crispy bacon from a pan onto a plate, wearing the same light-gray, long-sleeved, fitted cotton shirt and jeans he had on yesterday.

The same cotton shirt and jeans I had my body pressed against, rubbing all over him like a ho, in front of his father.

Except now, he’s got the sleeves of the shirt pushed up to his elbows while he cooks, and I get another view of the colorful tattoos that cover his forearms.

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