Except the afterglow included the best sleep I’ve had in forty Sundays, and apparently it was pretty good for her too, since it’s morning and she’s still here.

But she’s no longer asleep. She’s holding my shoulders with the grip of death.

“Knock it off!” I yell to whoever’s pounding.

“Open up.” It’s Miles. His deep voice carries through the door. “I need to talk to you.”

“I’m a little busy,” I say.

What the hell time is it, anyway? I glance at the window. It’s light out, but the sun rises before six.

Carly unclenches her hands from my flesh and crawls out of the other side of the bed, pulling a sheet around her, and races into the bathroom, closing the door.

O…kay.

At least I don’t have to explain what she’s doing here, although Miles isn’t stupid. I scramble into my jeans but don’t bother with the button and open the door. “What the fuck do you want?”

Miles, also wearing nothing but a pair of jeans, barges into my room, looking around. I had no idea he had a tattoo on his chest. “Thank God. Rick Vance is here and he’s about ready to blow a freaking gasket. He’s looking for— Oh, Fuck. She’s still here.” Miles’s gaze falls on Carly’s clothes neatly stacked on the chair by the window.

“Yeah. She’s in the bathroom,” I say quietly. “And none of this is any of her father’s business.”

He runs a hand down his face, his hand rasping over his whiskers. “Agreed. She’s over eighteen, but the fact remains that he’s here, and he’s convinced that she is, too. I was hoping he was wrong because dealing with a pissed off Daddy...”

I shake my head, feeling fiercely protective of my woman, regardless of who’s out there. “I’m not going to apologize.”

His eyes widen. “Who asked you to?”

I frown. “Chance will. He’ll want me to kiss Vance’s ass, but that’s never been my style.”

“Say what you want about Chance, but he’s no ass kisser either.”

I run a hand through my hair. “Okay, you’re right. But he’s a do-gooder.”

“Do-gooder?” Miles laughs. “You really just used that term?”

I ignore him and walk to the chair, pick up Carly’s clothes, and take them to the bathroom. I knock softly.

She opens the door a crack and I hand her the clothes. “How much have you heard?” I ask.

“Just bits and pieces, but I got the gist. My father is here, isn’t he?”

“Apparently.”

She sighs and pulls the clothes close to her body, which is a fucking pity because if I had my way, she wouldn’t get dressed again for a while. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

“You don’t have to do this,” I tell her. I want to stroke her hair. Kiss her swollen lips. Hell, get her beneath me in bed again. “You don’t owe him any explanation.”

She looks away and nods. “I do, though. He and I were supposed to talk this morning at breakfast, and I… Well, obviously I wasn’t there. I’m an adult, but I do live with them. I owe them the courtesy of at least a text or something to let them know where I am. After… well, after what I went through, they deserve that much.”