She crossed her arms. Closing herself off completely.

“I uh…”I scratched my head and cleared my throat. “I’m here for a few months on… holiday.” Shoot me now. Shoot me now.

“Holiday?” she repeated.

“People take vacations from time to time. It’s normal, for people, to uh… vacation.” Seriously, I should just jump now and get it over with.

“Vacation.” Her teeth ground together as her jaw flexed.

“Yeah.” I bit my lip and nodded as I slowly approached the railing closest to her, we were separated by two feet, maybe three.

“Here?”

“My thoughts exactly,” I grumbled.

That brought a smile to her face. “Well, welcome back.” She gave a curt nod and started to walk back toward the door.

“Pris—” I yelled. “Are you okay?”

She turned, her eyebrows drew together as she pressed her lips together. “What do you mean?”

I nodded. “Your clothes, and face, you just, you look like you had a rough night, I just wanted to make sure I didn’t need to kick anyone’s ass.”

She rolled her eyes. “If you need an ass to kick just look in the mirror, Jaymeson. Make it easy on yourself.”

Ouch.

The sliding glass door clicked shut.

And I was left without my hot coffee and without my balls. Because clearly she still held them in a viselike grip that made me want to both bow down and run screaming at the same time.

Cursing, I stomped back into the house and grabbed my phone, pulling up our instant messaging.

Me: Morning beautiful. How’d you sleep?

Priscilla S: Good.

Me: Just good?

Priscilla S: Until the fire.

Me: WTF!

I swear my heart started pounding so hard I thought I was going to have a heart attack; I started pacing waiting for her reply.

Priscilla S: It was fine. I mean, I’m fine. I’m going to go back to the house this morning and grab some clothes so that I have something to wear, I’ll collect my stuff, call my parents… it will be fine.

It seemed like she was trying to convince herself that she was fine, even when she wasn’t. I knew that trick. I used it all the time. Pasting a smile on your face and saying something over and over again did not actually make it true.

Me: What can I do to help?

Priscilla S: Show me how to use my coffee maker? I’m at a friend’s house until I can go back to mine and everything is way too high tech.

Me: Wish I could help but I’m in LA L

Priscilla S: Wish me luck!

Me: Good luck.

I threw the phone onto the couch and stared at it. I was doing a lot of that lately. Staring at things, as if they would suddenly start talking back to me and give me advice on my crappy life.

I threw on a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt, grabbed my keys so I didn’t lock myself out, and ran over to the condo, the whole time my brain chanted, What the hell, man, what the hell, but I told my brain to shut up.

She needed help.

I could reign in the lust.

And this didn’t mean I was proposing. I laughed aloud. I was just helping, and if I just so happened to see her smile or maybe get caught staring at her ass? Bonus. That’s all it was, a freaking bonus.

I knocked twice.

She answered, in the same smoke-stained PJs.

“Jaymeson, I have a really busy day and—”

I side-stepped her and walked into the condo. I’d gone with Demetri and Lyss when they’d picked out furniture and everything else in the place. I also knew that Lyss had an entire closet full of clothes that she could care less if Pris wore.

I made it a few steps into the house and turned. “You coming or not?”

“Huh?” She slammed the door. “You can’t just waltz into people’s houses and—“

“I didn’t.” I grinned. “Besides, it’s not your house. Now do you want help or not?”

“Help?”

“Stop repeating what I say before I lose my damn mind. I’m English not Russian. I barely have an accent. Do I really need to talk slower?”

She shook her head as blush stained her cheeks. Damn it. Curses, curses, lots and lots of curses. I loved that blush, I loved it way more than I loved coffee and that was saying a lot. I almost cried when I realized I was out after my cup took a leap off the ledge.

Clearing my throat, I looked away. “Follow me.”

I walked into the master bedroom like a man on a mission. The bed didn’t even look slept in. Did she sleep on the couch or the spare bedroom? Why wouldn’t she sleep in the nice room?

Shrugging, I stormed into the walk-in closet and pulled out a pair of leggings, boots, T-shirt, and grey cardigan, then made my way over to the sock drawer, and dug out a bra and panties as well as a scarf.

I heaved the clothes onto the bed and crossed my arms. “Problem solved.”

Priscilla nibbled her bottom lip. “I can’t wear her clothes, it wouldn’t be right and—”

I rolled my eyes. “AD2 brought in over twenty million on endorsements alone last year. Believe me when I say Alyssa can afford to loan you some clothes.”

Priscilla’s eyes widened.

I was being rude, curt, direct. Normally I was smooth but being smooth with this girl? Yeah, it meant me not keeping my pants on. And I really, really needed to keep my pants on lest she find a sharp knife and end my future.

With slow movements, Priscilla reached for the clothes and felt them between her fingers as if she’d never felt clothes before in her entire life.