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“Are you going to sleep in the bed too?” She looked awfully scandalized for someone who’d asked if she could sit on my face twenty minutes ago.
“What are you doing?” I hissed, stealing a glance at him once we were out of sight of my friends. “Rescuing you, apparently.” “I don’t need to be rescued.” He chuckled, low and deep. “You sure about that?”
Just my luck: one of the hottest chicks I’d ever met hated my guts. Or was she hot because she hated me? Maybe it was a bit of both. I didn’t want to examine that too closely.
Bailey: Speaking of the front door, can you do me a favor? Chase: What kind of favor? Bailey: Not that kind. Chase: Dammit. Bailey: When you get here, can you come to the front door? Chase: And say hi to my BFF Morrison? It would be my pleasure.
The look on Morrison’s face tonight? Awesome. Getting to spend time with James? Even better. Kissing her? Fuck me, I’m in over my head.
He grinned. “I’ll pass on the mani-pedis, but I’m down for a pillow fight any day of the week. Preferably in our underwear.” Oh. Picturing Chase in underwear wasn’t helping me keep my mind straight after that kiss. He came to stand beside me on the landing, halfway up the stairs, and I poked him in the side. “Don’t be dirty.” “What?” Chase said with mock innocence. “I wasn’t.” I raised my eyebrows. “Fine, I was. But the offer stands.”
“No offense to you, but I don’t get the Morrison thing,” I said. “You’re cool. And that dude’s got about as much personality as a carton of white milk.” “Oh my god.” She stopped mid-sip and huffed out a little breath of air. “Somehow that fits perfectly.” I drained the last of my hot chocolate. “Seriously, what did you see in him? Asking for a friend.” I paused. “Okay, that friend is me. I’m a nosy fuck.”
COULD I have completed that essay a little faster? Probably. Was I motivated to speed up the process when James was in my bedroom, looking adorable as fuck on my bed? Not really.
“I don’t want anyone else, James.” “You don’t?” “Not even a little,” I said, kissing the top of her head. “Think you’ll be able to sleep now?” “Yeah,” she said. “Think so.”
“Hey, I have some good news.” She sank into her seat, placing her napkin on her lap and looking at me questioningly. “What’s that?” “Shiv’s place burned down,” I said. “Um.” Bailey did a double-take, blinking several times. “What?”
“Then it makes me feel bad for eating in front of them. Like, I’m a large human being. I train every day. I need a ton of calories. It’s awkward to be the only one eating all the time, you know?” Bailey grinned. “If you think that’s impressive, you should see me breathe. I’m world class.”
Bailey stepped closer, wrapping her arms around my neck. Instantly, my willpower disintegrated. Fuck G-rated; if I kept it PG-13, I would consider it an accomplishment.
“Then he said, and I quote …” Chase drew in a breath, nostrils flaring. “Because I seemed to like his sloppy seconds.” I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. “What?” “Yeah, so my plan is to break both of his knees with a crowbar next time I see him off the ice.” He paused. “If you could give me his address, that would really help move things along.”
Chase cocked a brow, his lips forming a smirk. “Are you checking me out, James?” Checking out, ogling, gawking, in giddy disbelief that he was mine. Same thing.
“Can’t I be curious about my wife-to-be’s wedding night attire? Good husbands take an interest in things, right?” “I think they mean things like their careers, not their panties.” I cupped her chin. “You’ve already got the career part nailed. I’m marrying the sexiest sportswriter in the biz. So let’s circle back to your panties.”
