“Yeah. It was pretty crazy.” His gaze moves down to my lips and back up again. “Still doesn’t seem right though—to run away. You had me pretty worried for a minute there.”

“Well, I didn’t think you’d mind, considering the fact that you’d rather sleep on the floor—which was probably dirty as hell, by the way—than sleep next to me.” My voice comes out snarkier than I intended as I hold back a glare.

His eyes? They darken. There’s more he wants to say, but the man is in complete control of every word that comes out of his mouth, and for whatever reason, he decides not to answer.

Slade is the kind of man who doesn’t spew bullshit. If he says something, it’s because he thought about it and chose to talk. And, if he doesn’t speak or respond, it’s him consciously deciding to refrain. I haven’t known him long, but this is a trait of his I picked up on right away. Slade’s ability to control himself is both frightening and powerful.

I take another gulp of my beer, reminding myself that I have nothing to worry about. Sure, I ran away with my ego bruised instead of sticking around and thanking him like a proper adult. But, in my defense, the situation was stressful. And what would any woman think after seeing a man she threw herself at sleeping on the floor of a hotel room instead of in the huge and plush king-sized bed? I mean, please!

Suddenly, the image of his huge, hulking body cleaning me in the tub flashes before my eyes, and I feel like an absolute jerk. I can’t believe I ran out on him after what he did for me. Guilt runs over my insides. I could have bought him breakfast or, at the minimum, left a note.

Another swallow of my beer, but this one goes down over a pit in my throat.

The waitress brings another large pitcher, setting it on the center of our table. Before I can refill my glass, Slade picks it up and begins filling mine just as Vincent and Eve come back to the table. They are still preoccupied, talking quietly to each other.

“Listen, angry girl,” he starts, lip twitching, “you were under a tremendous amount of stress. Don’t worry about the fact that you wanted to fuck. Lots of people do after something like that.” His mouth quirks fully upward.

Is he messing with me right now or serious?

I turn my gaze to Vincent and Eve. Did they hear? Luckily, they’re focused only on each other, seemingly in deep conversation.

My head swings back to Slade. “I—what—you—”

He slowly nods his head, looking all cocky and laughing under his breath. He’s making light of the whole thing while I’m guilt-stricken.

Asshole!

“I did not—I mean—of course not!” I whisper-yell under my breath.

“Yes.” He fiddles with the watch on his wrist. “Yes, you did. You wanted me pretty damn badly. If I remember correctly, you pulled off your—”