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What might be worse is that her shorts must be made out of tissue paper or something because they basically melted, and I can see the outlines of her lower body in great detail.
She cringes when she sees my expression. “Oh no. How bad is it?”
First, I check to make sure no bystanders are gawking at her the way I am. Then, I lean down and ask in a low murmur, “You’re not wearing underwear, are you?”
“Shit.” She crosses one leg over the other. “Okay, so it’s bad.”
I clamp one eye shut and nod solemnly. “Want to use my bathroom to get cleaned up?”
“Thank you.” She doesn’t wait for me to lead, shuffling into my bedroom in a hurry. I’m right behind her, this time shutting the door and locking it behind me. Snagging my shirt off the bed, I pull it overhead before following her into the bathroom.
There’s no door to my ensuite, just a large archway that leads into the walk-through closet and then opens to the bathroom. She’s busy rinsing her lace top under the sink, so I knock on the doorframe to let her know I’m behind her.
“Lenny, do you want some soap?”
After plugging the sink, she glances over her shoulder. “Did you just call me Lenny?”
“Is that not your name? I thought I heard that guy call you Lenny.”
She’s standing in just her bra top, already having shed her sheer outer top, clenching it in her small fist. She goes back to watching the running sink water. When there’s a deep enough pool of water in the sink, she plunges the entire top in to soak, then helps herself to the navy hand towel to her right. Never once has the right sink in my bathroom been used. That towel has hung there pristine and untouched for a month.
“Lennox,” she clarifies. “And that guy is Charlie. My ex. I hate when he calls me that.”
“Sorry.Lennox, then. I’m Dex.”
“It’s okay. You didn’t know.” Her flushed cheeks bunch into bubbly half-spheres when she smiles. “Nice to meet you, Dex.”
“So, were you guys serious?”
“I was serious. Him? Not so much. See this?” She taps her collarbone as she abandons the sink and approaches me. I have to duck down to read the small tattoo. My stomach churns when I realize it’s Charlie’s name in an elegant calligraphy. “My constant reminder of the dumb things I’ve done drunk. This stupid tattoo…and Charlie.”
“Why’d you guys break up?”
“About a week after this mistake”—she rubs her finger against her collarbone like his name is a smudge she can remove—“I caught him balls deep in a girl from the restaurant he manages. And you want to know the gaslighting bullshit he threw my way when I found out?”
God, I feel bad. She’s trying to play it cool, but I see the way she sucks in her lips to keep her reaction under control. I know that face. This girl doesn’t like to cry. Or doesn’t want me to see her cry.
“What’d he say?”
“He told me that I was too high maintenance in expecting him to remain monogamous. All the ‘woke girls’ are into open relationships these days.”
“He said that right to your face?” She nods. “Wow. He’s got a pair. I’ll give him that. I hope you kicked his ass. And if you didn’t, you’ll need to excuse me for a moment so I can.”
“That’s sweet… And you’re hot.” She scrunches her face. “Just tell me that you’re the kind of guy to ignore texts and only call me when you want some ass. And if I have the nerve to call you first when I haven’t heard from you for weeks, please tell me you’d tease me for being needy.”
I cross my arms. “Now, why in the hell would I ever tell you that?”
A mischievous grin spreads across her face. “Because then you’d beexactlymy type.” She half-curtsies. “My superpower is knowing how to pick the cream of the crop when it comesto dickwads. I’m basically a walking magnet for epic stupidity. Which is why, from now on, I’m only dating men I’m not remotely attracted to.” She shrugs. “So, sorry, you’re out.”
“Ah, damn. I can be less attractive if that helps? Maybe chew with my mouth wide open.”
“That’d definitely help.”
“Wear khakis with a brown belt and black suede shoes.”
She laughs. “Getting warmer.”
“Skip a few showers and cut my toenails at the kitchen table.”