Yep, I need to look away. Look up. Or down. Oh shit, he flexes his pecs like a douche. He’s totally being a bro. It’s not hot at all. Okay, maybe a teensy bit hot. I don’t want to put my hands on them to feel that movement.
Thankfully my hands are full of containers and sauce bottles so I can’t do anything like lose my wits. Pasting my best impression of a glare on my face, I ask, “Did you seriously flex at me?”
He smirks, no teeth, all attitude.
It helps bring everything into perspective. Vale Westerly is not the kind of guy you take home to meet your mother. Not that I would ever introduce him to my mother. God knows I haven’t seen much of her since I was a child. But that’s not the point. Point is I’m not swayed by his pretty face and that tight, muscular, incredibly perfect body anymore.
“What is wrong with you?”
He frowns. “What is wrong with me? You’re the one acting weird.”
He doesn’t know that I had a crush on him for the longest time. At least I don’t think he knew. He never said anything and I’m certainly not going to ask. He has absolutely no clue that I have a thing for the unattainable. Or that he’s like the Batman of Impossible to Attain. All grumpy and gruff. He’d probably look great in leather and a cape too. And he blends into the shadows before anyone can get their hooks in.
He probably thinks he’s easy to get. For me he’s the definition of forbidden fruit. And boy do I want a taste.
I blame my parents and their lack of attention. What else could it be? Because I’m not an idiot. In fact, I’d go as far as to say I’m somewhat intelligent. So I know, having been acquainted with the man in front of me since I was a kid, that if there is one person who likes the idea of dating less than I do, it’s him.
Honestly, I’d just sleep with him if that was an option. A one and done shot at getting him out of my system would probably do the trick. Oh, who am I kidding? It would have to be at least twice. Three times? Half a dozen of the best sex-capades known to man? And that’s the rub. Besides the fact that sleeping with my brother’s best friend is out on a familial level, I’m worried this crush of mine would grow out of control. So no, I can’t sleep with him. Which means thinking about him the way I sometimes do is a complete waste of time.
Well, maybe it’s not a complete waste. I’ve had some enjoyable late night experiences thanks to my wayward imagination. Anyway… “Don’t flex at me like I’m one of your little groupies.”
He chuckles. “You used to love the pec dance.”
I snap my mouth shut and internally grimace. I did, didn’t I? Damn it. I rebalance the items in my hands. “Sorry. I guess I grew out of it.”
“Noted. Won’t happen again.” He leans in closer and then steps back, a wad of napkins in his fist. “I wanted to talk to you about playing a little joke on your brother.”
So that’s why he’s crowding me. “What were you thinking?”
“He’s been on my case more than usual about leaving you alone,” he admits. “You know I wouldn’t try to hit on you, don’t you?”
“Yeah, of course.” There he goes popping my sexy thoughts balloon.
“You and I, we’re purely friendly,” he says as we leave the pantry.
“Amicable as they come.” I exhale. It is so nice to be able to breathe fresh Vale-free oxygen again. The type that doesn’t make my insides quiver, or my tongue swell until it’s hard to swallow.
“Right?” He grabs a couple beers. “Do you want white or the bubbly pink stuff? I wasn’t sure so I bought one of each.”
“Uh, thanks. Pink will do.”
He pulls a bottle of pink from the door and tucks the tray Hud wanted for the meat under his arm. “So what the hell is your brother’s problem? Why won’t he back off about this?”
Well, he probably thinks you could hurt me if we grew close. Hudson knew about my crush and still treats me like a kid. It wouldn’t surprise me if that’s where this is stemming from. “I have no idea.”
“So what if we gave him a taste of his own medicine during dinner?” he suggests.
“You want to get close to me?” I frown as we leave the kitchen. It doesn’t make sense. It does make my stomach flip-flop though.
“No. I want to stir up your brother.” He grins at me. “By pretending to get close to you.”
“You want to turn my brother into a homicidal maniac for the fun of it?” I gape at him. Normal people take the bull by the horns metaphorically. Teasing Hud would be like doing it literally. “Is everything okay with you? You’re not dying, are you? Is it cancer?”
“I’m not dying.” He laughs. “Why would you think that?”
“Well, taunting Hud about me seems like a really good way to euthanise yourself.”
“Okay, fine.” He unloads the drinks on the table while I start putting out the plates and cutlery. “We won’t do it, but if he starts carrying on like he did last time you need to stick up for me. Got it?”
I hold out my pinkie. “Promise.”
He links his finger with mine and we shake on it. Imminent end of the world averted. At least for now.
Chapter Four
Vale
“Hi, Vale,” my neighbor says, twisting to fit between the elevator doors as they start to slide shut.
“Hey, Julia.” Well, let’s call her Julia for simplicity’s sake. I’m not exactly sure what her name is at this point, though I’m certain I knew it the night we met. I lift the hem of my muscle top to wipe the sweat from my face. It’s lunchtime and I’m coming back from the weekly game of football the Line ‘Em Up crew play every Monday.
“Were you out running too?” She’s wearing running shorts and a pink sports bra. Her skin is rosy and glistening with sweat. She tugs an earbud from her ear and smiles sweetly.
“Had a game with the guys.”
“I haven’t seen you around lately.” She closes the distance between us so she can touch my arm. “How are you?”
I wish Julia would go away. Or better yet, I wish I hadn’t brought her home six months ago after my shift at Line ‘Em Up. At the time she’d seemed like a fun girl up for a good time with no strings attached. But it’s become clear since then that she’s a nice girl who falls a little too easily and too hard for the wrong guy.
It’s unfortunate for poor Julia because she deserves a guy who believes in second dates and commitment and who won’t leave her jaded the morning after. “Good. Busy.”
“Good.” She toys with the end of her long ponytail, the red glinting under the lights. “That’s great. I’ve been busy too.”
I give her a tight smile. I don’t want to make chit-chat. I don’t want to encourage her.
“Maybe we could hang out tonight?” She squeezes my bicep as she steps nearer. Her lip is pulled between her teeth. I think it’s supposed to be sexy, but it screams eager. “Do something.”
Folding my arms over my chest, I ignore her flirting. I hate when women get their hopes up around me. “I have work.”