“The coconut panties add a real something special to it.”
“I don’t see the problem here.”
“That’s because I’m hiding it behind this counter,” he ground out, jaw tight.
I paused, my gaze running over him until it hit his lower stomach. It was pressed right against the countertop on the island, and my lips slowly formed an ‘o’ shape.
“Oh.” It came out all squeaky. “I see. I don’t see, but I see.” I cleared my throat, blushing. “I get it.”
He gave me a tight smile. “Now, I don’t know how we handle this. Who leaves first?”
“Um. I’ll close my eyes, and you go.”
“I think I’ll close my eyes, and you go.”
“If this is part of your passive-aggressive shit, it’s not funny.”
“I’m not laughing,” he said, deadly serious. “Seriously. Go.” He closed his eyes and used his hand to cover them.
I had no choice.
It was on me.
And, apparently, Angelica was right.
How about that?
I ran to my room and pushed the door shut so hard it rattled on its hinges. My heart had reverted back to its crazy thud-thud-thud against my ribs, and I was inexplicably breathless.
Not even I was such a bad runner that I should be out of breath from that quick escape.
I dropped on the edge of my bed. I’d left my damn coffee out in the kitchen, so I’d have to get dressed to retrieve it.
I grabbed a bra, shirt, and leggings from my dresser and moved to the underwear drawer. After getting a pair of panties that were not covered in any kind of fruit, I turned my attention to my socks.
The drawer was a hot mess, as always. I rifled through the socks looking for a matching pair, even going so far as to take some out and lay them on top of the dresser just in case.
It was useless.
There were no pairs.
Only a drawer full of odd socks.
How was it even remotely possible that one of every single pair of socks had just upped and—
Son of a bitch.
I threw the socks in my hand into the drawer and turned on my heels. “Ethan!” I shouted, yanking my door open. “Ethan! Where the fuck are my socks?” I stormed back into the kitchen where I’d left him, but he wasn’t there.
He had to be back in his room, but I wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice.
“Ethan!” I pummeled my fist against his door. “Open this damn door before I break it down!”
“I’m naked!”
“I don’t care! Open this door so I can choke you until you talk!”
The door swung open, and he leaned against it, still in nothing but his boxers, and still with a relatively clear bulge in them.
Ahem.
“If you choke me, I can’t answer a thing.” His lips curved into an infuriating smirk. “What’s this about your socks?”
“My socks.” I put my hands on my hips. “Half of my socks are missing.”
“Are they in the laundry basket?”
“I mean one half of each pair, smartass. I have an entire drawer full of odd socks. Where are they?”
“Oh, that.” He nodded slowly. “God, that’s gotta be annoying.”
“Ethan!” I threw my hands out. “I agreed not to change the Netflix password again. Give me my socks!”
He took a step back and pointed at the hedgehog cage. “I don’t have all of them right now, but Mr. Prickles is enjoying sleeping in a few. I’m not sure you’re going to get those back.”
My jaw dropped. I shoved past him into the room and toward the cage on top of his dresser.
Yep. Sure as shit, there they were. Three of my socks being used as a bed for a spiky pig.
“Great.” I took a step back. “Just great. I’m going to kill you.”
“You already are,” he said dryly. “Because you still aren’t wearing a bra.”
I spun on the balls of my feet. “Oh, does that bug you? Me not wearing a bra?”
He stared at me.
I grabbed my boobs and pushed them up and together. “This kills you?”
He worked his jaw, his nostrils flaring.
“Good. Because if you think it was bad before, it’s now all-out roommate warfare, Ethan. And this shirt just became my new favorite shirt, so I hope you get your little friend under control before it gets too awkward!” I dropped my boobs and stormed out of his room with what I hoped was a strut with a dramatic flair but was probably just an awkward hobble with a hint of annoyance.
“Ava!”
“What?” I demanded, spinning around to face him.
He stalked up to me, wasting no time at all. His hands were rough as he grabbed me and pulled me against him, his lips slamming down on mine.
What was happening?
He softened after a second, but only slightly. My body reacted before my mind did, and through the spinning in my brain, I was vaguely aware of the fact that my braless boobs were pressed against his naked chest with only a very thin layer of cotton.
There was also the issue of his hand wrapped around the back of my neck.
Oh, and his tongue moving against mine.
He was kissing me.
Ethan was kissing me.
I was kissing him.
Kissing Ethan.
And neither of us were stopping it.
But oh, Jesus, it was something else. His grip on me was unwavering, and the ferocity he kissed me with duplicated itself in shivers that tingled across my skin, leaving all the hairs on my arms standing on end.
It was the most stomach-fluttering, heart-pounding, desire-churning kiss I’d ever had in my life.
And it was with Ethan.
The best kiss of my life would go down in history as being with him. This would be the benchmark for which all other kisses would be held against.
That was it, then. I was already ruined for all other men. Wonderful.
Ethan flexed his fingers against the back of my neck, slowly pulling away from the kiss. He lingered for a moment, his lips hovering barely a breath away from mine.
“Um,” I breathed, needing to break the silence.
He pulled back just enough to meet my gaze. “For the love of fucking God, put a bra on, Ava.”
Then, with those words, he released me.
And headed straight for the bathroom. He pulled the door shut behind him, and the lock clicked. Less than a minute later, I was still standing in the hall, almost paralyzed.
I couldn’t move. How was I supposed to move now?
The sound of the shower being turned on shook me out of whatever post-kiss haze I was in. I touched my fingers to my lips, my eyes widening, and jerked to life.
Ethan had just kissed me.
And now he was in the shower with a hard-on that’d just been pressed up against my stomach.
Oh, Jesus.
What the fuck was going on?
***
“Kissed you?” Reagan leaned across the table, her eyebrows shooting up.
“Kissed you?” Halley echoed, doing the same. “What? Why? How?”
“All excellent questions.” I fiddled with the rim of my wine glass. I wasn’t in the habit of drinking before work, but I was hungry and I was stressed, and I needed something to take the edge off my constant thinking.
“What happened?” Reagan asked, looking a little too much like the old ladies at the church who thrived on gossip.