“Yeah,” she says as she stands from the couch, her voice still rough with sleep. “I should get out of your way.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” I tell her as she pulls her purse from the coffee table and reaches inside. “There’s no rush for you to leave.”
Her face clouds over, almost as if she refuses to believe someone could be nice, before tilting down so she can look around inside her purse. I take the brief opportunity to appreciate that even with tangled hair, mascara smears, and a baggy t-shirt on, she’s still one of the sexiest women I’ve ever seen. Hell, she may be the absolute sexiest, and I’m only judging this by the fact that, in this moment, I seem to be more attracted to her than ever before. I’m not sure if it’s her vulnerability or my white-knight complex, but I’ve seen Catherine dressed in any number of sexy outfits with perfect hair and makeup, and I never wanted to fuck her as bad as I do right now.
When she turns to me with car keys in hand, I hope she doesn’t notice the hard-on I’m sporting. Not that I’d be embarrassed about it because Catherine’s gotten me hard before and she knows it, but because I don’t want her to think that’s all I’m interested in from her. I especially don’t want her thinking she has to pay me in that way.
I take the keys from her and head for the door. “Mind pouring me a cup of coffee? I take it black.”
“Sure,” she murmurs, but I don’t look back at her. I need to get my dick under control.
In the trunk of her car, I find a large suitcase, a carry-on, and a duffle-type bag, all done in the classic brown leather and gold lettering of Louis Vuitton. I’m totally not into fashion, but I’d bought my fair share of that designer for both my mom and Tarryn, so I know how expensive this shit is. I can’t help but think that Catherine might find herself in a situation where she has to sell her fucking luggage to get some cash, and that’s a shitty place to be.
I cart the bags up the outside staircase to my garage apartment with my hard-on back under control. I find her sitting at the small kitchen table, a cup of coffee in her hand. My cup is poured and sitting by the coffee pot.
“Listen,” I tell her in my most casual voice so she doesn’t feel like a charity case. “Why don’t you stay here for a few days until you can get your bearings?”
“I couldn’t—” she starts to say, and I knew she’d rebuff the offer.
“Come on, Catherine,” I cut her off sternly. “We’re friends. That’s what friends do.”
“It’s Cat,” she says.
This throws me off because I’d been expecting an argument. “Excuse me?”
“Cat. The name I prefer to go by is Cat.”
I blink at her, stunned for a moment by the change in subject. “I didn’t know that.”
She shrugs nonchalantly and lowers her gaze to her cup. “No one ever bothered to ask. Catherine is what Samuel insisted on calling me. It’s how he always introduced me.”
Fuck.
Just… fuck.
I can almost see her identity disappearing right before my eyes. What did this asshole do to her? He left her destitute after already stealing who she was right out from under her.
Taking my cup from the counter, I walk over to the table and sit opposite of her. I make a command decision, knowing it’s the right thing to do in this moment. I know Jake will tell me I’m slipping into my savior role, but fuck him. Cat needs help and I don’t think she has anyone else to turn to right now.
“Here’s what we’re going to do,” I say in a firm, take-control voice. Her eyes immediately snap up to mine. “You’re going to stay here in my apartment with me. If you want to remain stubborn and stick with the couch, that’s fine. No argument from me. That will let you get your feet underneath you. You can take a bit of time, figure out what you want to do… or where you want to go.”
“I don’t have any money—”
“If it’s that important to you, you can pay me back when you get some.” I don’t even consider trying to talk her out of just accepting my generosity because I can see Cat has pride. I can see that’s about the only thing she has of value to her name, and I’m not about to steal it from her. “How’s that sound?”
She turns slightly away from me, letting her gaze roam over the tiny space of my apartment. It takes her two seconds before returning to me. “You don’t have a lot of room here. I wouldn’t want to get in your way.”
“I’m not here a lot,” I tell her as I stand from the table with my cup in hand. “I have a full-time day job. Between that and being at The Silo, we probably won’t run into each other that much.”
And why do I feel a crushing sense of disappointment over that thought?
“I’d want to pay you rent once I maybe get a job or something,” she says, her chin lifting higher. Christ… the sexy seductress looks just adorable right now, all bowed up with dignity and determination.