I catch up to her as she flings open the door to reveal Oz with a smile on his face that drops instantly.

“Did you look through the peephole?” he barks at Paige, taking me by surprise.

“Oz,” I snap before Paige can say something and an argument sets in. They’ve only met once and for a very brief moment. I want them to like each other, and this isn’t a good start. She’s the most important person in my life, and Oz is beginning to mean a lot to me. It’s important they get along.

Oz’s eyes snap to mine and go soft again. He eats up every inch of me as he looks down my body to where my legs are bare. I’m only wearing a pair of panties and a worn-out Yale T-shirt that drops to midthigh. I’ve had the thing since my freshman year of college, and I always sleep in it.

“It’s 5 a.m.,” Paige says, releasing the door. Oz catches it, stopping it from shutting. “I’m going back to bed.” Paige shakes her head, clearly annoyed, but I’m glad she didn’t lay into Oz about the peephole comment. She must be tired.

Oz steps in, shutting the door behind him and flipping the lock. Placing a bag and drink holder with coffee down on the table next to the door, he turns to me. Like always, he’s in a suit and looks incredibly handsome. Way too handsome for 5 a.m. His dark waves are pushed back, and his short stubble is clean and polished. His suit today is a light gray, and he’s wearing a baby blue crisp dress shirt with a blue-and-gray-striped tie. He’s gorgeous.

I don’t even want to think about what I look like right now.

“You can’t talk to Paige like that. This is her home, and she can answer the door however she likes.” Not that I don’t agree with him. Paige should’ve checked to see who was at the door before swinging it open, but in her defense, it’s early and she was pissed. Not to mention this building has crazy good security. It makes me wonder how he even got up to our floor.

“Whose shirt is that?” he asks, changing the subject. His tone is a little firmer than normal.

“You’re clearly not a morning person. What are you even doing here?”

“Baby, whose shirt is that?” he asks again, taking a step toward me.

I look down at the shirt. “Well, I’m wearing it, so clearly it’s mine.” I place my hands on my hips, narrowing my eyes at him. What the hell is going on here?

“It’s really big on you.”

“So?” I’m clearly not understanding the problem with my shirt.

“It looks like a man’s shirt.” He takes a few more steps until he’s standing right in front of me. I have to lean my head back to look up at him. His jaw is set in a firm lock, almost like he’s clenching his teeth.

“No, it looks like I got it in the discount bin for five dollars.” I see his body visibly relax, and his warm smile comes back. I keep my glare fixed, even though that stupid smile melts my insides.

He leans down like he’s going to kiss me, and I step back, making him smile more.

“I see you’re still learning that if you run, I chase. Stepping back won’t help you.” A playful look fills his face, and I try to keep my stern expression. He came into our home, snapping at everyone, and now he’s acting like nothing happened.

I take another two steps back, and his eyebrows rise right before he lunges for me. I let out a squeal and turn to run down the hallway. I only make it a few feet before I’m lifted off the ground and thrown over his shoulder.

One arm holds me in place and the other comes up to grip my ass.

“I like it when you don’t run from me, but I have to say chasing and catching you has its appeal, also.” The hand on my ass slips under my shirt and roams around. The soft touch is ticklish, and I can’t help but squirm and laugh.

Suddenly, my back hits my bed, and he moves over me, between my parted legs. He stares down at me, making my face heat. The teasing look is gone, and now he’s back to all soft and sweet.

“Fuck, you even look sexy first thing in the morning.” His face drops down, and I think he’s going to kiss me. Instead, his nose brushes across my cheek, then down to my neck, where he places openmouthed kisses. It makes me shiver and writhe.

“I’m still mad at you.” My words come out breathy, and I don’t sound like myself.

“I’m sorry, baby. Let me make it up to you.”

“Oz, you can’t just…” I try to protest, but he takes my earlobe between his teeth. The hand on my hip slips between us, going under my shirt. It works its way up my body, fondling my breast as my nipples get harder.

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