“Ah. I guess you’ll have to find that out for yourself another time.”

After an eventful stroll home that took twenty minutes longer than it should have, peppered with small talk and sexual requests that made even me blush, we arrived at the house I shared with Dallas and Tyler.

“Wow, this is fancy,” she said, gaping at the modern gray stucco structure. “How do you swing this? Wealthy family?”

Kind of, but I wasn’t. Dallas’s family, however, was fucking loaded. Hence the sweet digs. I carefully guided Bailey up the three stairs leading to the front door.

“Something like that.”

I unlocked the door and pushed it open with my hip while holding Bailey upright with one arm. She stumbled inside, tossing her coat on the floor. Then she flopped down beside the entry mat and unbuckled the straps on her high heels. When she’d wrestled both shoes off, she stood up, barefoot.

Her shoulders heaved with a weary sigh. “I want to go to sleep.”

“Right away,” I promised. “But you can’t sleep in that.” I nodded at her outfit. It was damp from the rain, and like my shoes, her white tank top had fallen victim to the blue vomit splash incident.

She was a hot mess. Literally.

“I don’t have anything else to wear, though.” Bailey frowned.

“Give me a sec.” We made our way upstairs, and I led her into my bedroom. I flipped a switch in the attached bathroom so we could see without being blinded by the overhead light. Any of my bottoms would probably fall right off her tiny waist, so a T-shirt was all I had to offer.

Pulling open the top drawer, I grabbed a well-worn red Falcons tee and handed it to her. Sure, I had other shirts. But giving her this felt like a taste of retribution against that dick Morrison.

“Here,” I said. “You can change in the bathroom. Washcloths are under the sink if you need one. And mouthwash.”

Bailey froze on the spot, staring at the bed. She turned to face me, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. “Are you going to sleep in the bed too?”

She looked awfully scandalized for someone who’d asked if she could sit on my face twenty minutes ago.

“Well, yeah. The other bedrooms belong to Dallas—who’s probably in there with Shiv—and Tyler. And, for reasons I won’t get into, I wouldn’t touch that with a ten-foot pole. And I don’t fit on our couch.” I gestured to myself with one hand, waving an open palm from my head down, as if to illustrate my height. “But you can sleep there if you want. I’ll warn you, though, it’s not comfortable.”