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She squeezes her eyes closed. “Did I say that out loud?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“I meant a holster…kind of like boxers. Or briefs. You know, whatever you prefer. They hide things, like a holster. Or whatever. Don’t mind me.”
She turns on her heels and tries to escape. I lunge after her, keeping the pink sheets around my waist to hide my weapon, a.k.a. junk, but my body protests at the sudden movement. My “hey” comes out more like a groan.
I grab her hand, and she shakes her head, refusing to look back at me.
“Len, it was funny. I enjoyed the joke.”
Maybe a little too much. Underneath the polka dots, my cock stirs to life. I ignore it, waiting for her to finally face me again. Eventually, she does, and I drop her arm so I can pull the sheets up.
This time, her eyes don’t stray from my face, and an astonishing amount of disappointment threads through me. “Thank you for taking care of me last night.”
If I’d been with my previous roommate, I would’ve been woken up at one a.m. to him finally coming home from being out, and I’d be lucky if he didn’t have someone with him.
“I guess you should’ve added to the contract that we wouldn’t flash each other.”
This brings a smile to her face, her blue eyes lighting up. “Yeah, I didn’t foresee that happening. I was preoccupied with your smelly hockey gear.” She swipes a strand of hair away from her lips, and I notice she’s done her hair.
I reach out, touching one of the curls. “Did you do something different?”
“I finally used my curling iron, if that’s what you mean.”
“It looks nice.” I can’t believe I thought she was asexual. She’s funny. Quirky. And…cute. Girl-next-door beautiful, actually. Hidden underneath those oversized clothes was a gorgeous body, and yeah, I’m probably a vain asshole for admitting it, but it took her showing me to see it.
My stomach tightens, desire threading through me. The feeling nearly takes my breath away. Since she-who-will-not-be-named, I haven’t been attracted to another girl, as if her infidelity had stolen my ability to look at someone in that way. It was easy to keep the no-girls promise because none of them even tempted me.
“Len…”
She shakes her head again, like my talking broke a spell between us. After a deep breath, she says, “Clark texted and asked to meet.”
“Oh.” My shoulders sag. That name was nowhere on my radar.Stupid, I chastise myself.She has a crush on someone else. “Well, you should probably meet him, then.”
“Any advice?” Her bright eyes peer into mine.
I gesture toward her. “You look great.” It dawns on me that the shirt she’s wearing is perfect for him. Mr. Perfect Clark Kent Editor. Why are there two different commas anyway? “And, you know, act like you’re someone who deserves to be looked at.”
“Yeah?”
She looks so hopeful that I push down any other thoughts. I can keep this strictly a roommate thing. Plus, maybe I only felt things because of the pain reliever and the fact that she saw my penis. She also took care of me all night. I’m just grateful for her and getting the pleasure signals mixed up.
I take a deep breath. “My other advice is to be honest and tell him how you feel. Ask him out on a date.”
She grimaces.
The look of worry on her face makes me grin. “I guess you aren’t ready for that yet.”
She shrugs. “I have to get him to see me first.”
“Flirt a little, then. If you can.”
She pulls her shoulders back. “I can flirt.”
“Of course you can,” I agree. “Get out there and flirt. Show him how puckable you are.”
“I’m going to flirt,” she says, determined. Spinning on her heel, she marches toward the front door like she’s on a mission.