“You’re a liar. I have fantastic thighs.” I nod. “I am. And you do.” “Andrew Alexander Albright, it’s too early for this. I’m going back to bed.” “Is that an invitation?” She scoffs and then snorts, brushing her wild dark sleep-mussed curls back and out of her face. “I don’t typically invite men who are all hot and sweaty up to my bed with me.” I grin wickedly. “Just the men who can make you all hot and sweaty? I’m pretty good at that, you know.”
