When she left tomorrow morning, she’d be wearing her usual drab clothes, her hair tucked into one of those stiff up-dos women in their sixties preferred. He still had no idea how her short hair, usually curling all around her face, managed to stay in place for the whole day she was at school.
He could understand why she portrayed herself that way to the exterior world however. After all, if someone really looked at her, it was possible to see how young she was. No, he thought to himself. She wasn’t that young. But if she wore bright makeup and jeans, she’d look like a fresh-faced teenager. Probably not the best first impression for a junior high English teacher.
The day she’d come to the house in answer to their ad, both he and Drew had known from the very first minute that she was the one. She hadn’t been wearing glasses, but they could almost imagine them there, hiding her blue eyes from the rest of the world. She’d been perfect for them. Young enough, willing enough, ugly enough.
He cursed inwardly. They’d been blind. With all their training, how the hell had they missed that it was just a cover? How hadn’t they seen the real Kristyn hidden behind those fucking awful clothes?
The first time he’d stumbled upon her at night, he’d about had a heart attack. She’d only been wearing a short nightshirt, her legs seemingly endless, her toes painted bright red. Kristyn! The woman who didn’t even wear open-toed shoes!
At first, he’d even thought Drew had brought a girl home for the night. He’d been surprised and more than a little bit pissed off at his friend. They’d always said they’d never bring women home, so what the hell, right?
Wrong. It’d been their new roommate. In all her womanly—and nearly naked—glory. His cock twitched at the memory, his boxers suddenly feeling too tight. He shifted a little on his bed, his brain reminding him only thirty seconds remained before he could move.
The sound of that chair again.
Silently, he sat up and slid out of bed. His eyes now accustomed to the darkness, he opened his bedroom’s door, the hinges he’d oiled earlier in the day twisting without a single noise. He smiled, pleased with himself.
It didn’t last long however. As soon as his feet hit the carpet in the entryway, his head jerked to the left and the only light in the house. That’s when he spotted the shadow in the corner…and swore under his breath.
Drew had been in this game too long not to feel the presence at his back. Instinct took over, making him slam his elbow back as he twisted to face the intruder. Fingers clamped around the fist he’d already formed, the bones in his hand grinding under the pressure. He didn’t make a sound however, his eyes scanning the other man, guessing at his height, his weight, his… “Fuck!” The word escaped him.
“What are you doing here?” his friend asked, his voice pitched low so the woman in the kitchen wouldn’t hear.
“What about you?” he snapped back, wrenching his hand away. “Are you fucking nuts shadowing my six like that? If I’d had a knife, I’d have—”
Scott cut him off. “Considering you don’t have weapons on you, I wasn’t worried. I can take care of myself. If you hadn’t been staring so avidly, I wouldn’t have gotten the drop on you anyway.”
Shit! Drew felt his teeth clench together. Scott was right. He’d been intent on his task and hadn’t heard him, even though he knew for sure he’d left his friend sleeping in his room. Hold on a minute…