My eyes popped open at the question. ‘Not really.’
‘Hmm.’ His hand slid down to cup my hip, pulling my body into his. ‘I’m not sure about him. I don’t like the way he looks at you. And I don’t like that he’s living in such close proximity to you.’
My body wanted to grow tense at the suspicion in Malcolm’s voice, and it took everything I had to remain relaxed. His behaviour tonight had been so strange. ‘You were a little off tonight. I thought it was because of Callum’s appearance …’
Malcolm grunted. ‘No. You were uncomfortable around him. Anyone could see that. No, that didn’t bother me.’
However, Cam had. Malcolm’s slight possessiveness tonight and the claiming of me on his living-room couch hadn’t been about Callum. It had all been about Cam. He’d seen the way Cam had been looking at me and it had ignited his inner Alpha. And although Callum had touched my ass in front of Malcolm, that hadn’t bothered him because I hadn’t reacted.
But Cam had bothered him.
Because I had reacted.
I nuzzled against Malcolm, trying to force my pulse to slow. ‘He rubs me the wrong way too.’ I tried to cover up my attraction, making excuses for my response to Cam. ‘To be honest, we barely speak a word to each other at work.’
I hadn’t even realized Malcolm had been tense until I felt his muscles relax against me. ‘I’m going to see about getting him a job in graphic design. For Becca’s sake.’
Yeah. For Becca’s sake.
It took a while for me to fall asleep after that conversation.
My eyes slammed open, my heart beating hard against my ribs. I had sensed something was wrong.
Where was I? I tried to blink the fog of sleep from my eyes so I could focus.
Why was I so bloody warm?
Malcolm. I was in his room.
My eyes travelled down to the arm that was slung over my waist, and I turned my head over my shoulder to see Malcolm sleeping soundly behind me.
My eyelashes fluttered against the bright light streaming in through the crack in his blinds.
What time was it?
Lifting his arm as gently as possible, I eased out of the bed and tiptoed over to where my watch lay on his black lacquered Oriental cabinet.
‘Balls,’ I hissed, gaping at the time. It was past noon. On a Sunday. Cole would have come home early in hopes that I was taking him to the Nicholses’ for Sunday dinner. And I wasn’t there. Where was my phone? Where was my dress?
Shit, shit, shit.
‘Jo?’ Malcolm mumbled and my gaze flew back to the bed, where he was staring at me sleepily. ‘Where are you going?’
‘I slept in. I’m supposed to be home for Cole and my mum by now.’
‘Fuck,’ he mumbled. ‘What time is it?’
‘Quarter past twelve.’
‘It feels earlier.’
‘Well, it’s not,’ I replied, exasperated. I wasn’t quite sure at whom. I dashed across the room and planted a quick peck on his cheek before hurrying away. ‘I’ll phone you later!’ I called, grabbing my dress from his bedroom floor. I found my shoes, knickers, bra and bag in his living room, and as I hurriedly dressed I called for a taxi on speakerphone.
It was there in no time, and I dashed out of the duplex, shivering against the blast of cold air coming off the water, before I dived into the warm confines of the cab. I took the opportunity to check my messages.
I had one from Joss asking if I would be at lunch today.
And, bloody hell, I also had a text from Cole that he’d sent hours ago. I’d missed it. It seemed Jamie’s parents had had a huge argument, so Cole had got a taxi home last night.
Balls!
In the flustered, muddled mess I was in, Sunday lunch was not a good idea. I texted Joss back to let her know we’d be skipping it this week.
When the taxi pulled up to the flat, I tore up those stairs in my five-inch heels, not caring about the noise clacking like nails against steel all the way through the building. I shot a glower at Cam’s door as I passed, and then threw myself up the last few stairs, bursting through my front door, only to be welcomed by the sound of Cole’s laughter. Laughter that was followed by deep masculine laughter.
‘Cole?’ I stormed from the hall into the living room and stopped dead in my tracks.
My little brother was sitting on the floor, surrounded by his drawings, laughing up into Cameron MacCabe’s face. Cole’s eyes were lit up in a way I hadn’t seen in a long time, and for a moment all I could think was how much it hurt that he didn’t look that happy more often.
And then the fact that Cam was in my flat registered.
Cam was in my flat.
My flat, where my mother lived.
I felt sick.
‘Jo.’ Cole jumped to his feet, his eyes dimming. ‘I was worried.’
‘I’m sorry.’ I shook my head, gesturing with my phone. ‘I didn’t get your text until twenty minutes ago.’
‘It’s okay.’ He shrugged. ‘Everything’s okay.’
Cam stood up, smiling at Cole. That expression completely dissipated when he turned to face me, the softness melting into absolute nothingness. ‘Jo.’
‘Cam, what are you doing here?’ I asked breathlessly, my eyes darting towards the hall, thinking of Mum hidden away in her room. Maybe I could get him out before she made an appearance.
He strode past Cole, patting his shoulder almost protectively, before moving towards me. ‘Let’s talk. Out in the hall.’
Dumbfounded, I watched him pass me.
‘Now, Jo.’
I flinched at the demand in his voice, annoyance taking over my bemusement. How dare he speak to me that way? I wasn’t a bloody dog. I narrowed my eyes on Cole. ‘What happened?’