“I know you do,” I say, hooking my thumb to the bathroom.
She heads in there, saying, “But I do want you to play for me.”
I watch as she starts to wash her hands. “Only to serenade your naked body.”
She side-eyes me. “That’s unfair.”
“Is it?” I ask, grinning at her. “You want something from me, and I want you to embrace your incredible body.”
She shakes her head. “If you think the only thing I want is to hear you play the guitar, you’ve got another thing coming. I want you just as much as you want me, Owen.”
“Oh, I know you do,” I say to her, and she laughs, shaking her head. “What?”
“You’re so full of yourself.”
“Am I? Or did I feel the heat between your legs and hear your vagina screaming my name?”
She snorts, choking on her laughter. “I can’t stand you!”
I reach for her, bringing her into my arms and close to my body. “If you couldn’t stand me, you wouldn’t be in my arms, looking into my eyes, and being all mine.”
She reaches up, cupping my cheeks and running her thumbs along my cheekbones. “Fine, you’re right. But still, you drive me crazy.”
I kiss her nose. “Good thing you work for a mental health department.”
We dissolve in laughter until our lips meet.
Then the laughter is gone, and heat explodes between us. Since I don’t trust myself, I pull back first and kiss her nose once more. “Have a good day at school, gorgeous.”
She flutters her lashes at me. “I’m not going to make it with you.”
I nod, blowing out a long, loud breath as I put space between us. Her laughter runs down my spine as I pull her to the front door. Once she’s out of it and I close it, I lean my head into the door. “That makes two of us.”
I push off the wall, and when I turn, Dart is staring at me. “What is wrong with you?”
I shake my head. “I told her I wouldn’t have sex with her until she embraces her body, and I’m worried I might die before that happens.”
He makes a face. “The fuck? Who says that?”
“I do,” I groan, falling into the couch. “I want so badly for her to realize how perfect she is.”
“So, tell her. And if she doesn’t believe it, fuck her until she does. Stop being a fucking weirdo.”
“Thank you for that amazing motivational speech.”
He salutes me. “Anytime. I’m going back to bed.”
Thank God, I mutter in my head as I press my face into the pillow. When my phone sounds, I lift my head to see it’s my mom.
Mom: I enjoy being texted after I go to bed for things I shouldn’t be trying to find when I should be sleeping. Nevertheless, I found them, I bought them, and I picked them up. I’ll bring them when I come to watch a game.
I don’t care that Angie didn’t want me to get her those plants. I wanted to. She may be annoyed, but I know she wants them. I can’t get over how happy they make her, and I can’t wait to give them to her either. I’m beyond ready to see the excitement on her face. To be on the receiving end of that kiss. It’s gonna be killer.
Me: LOL, my bad. But awesome. Thanks. You’re the best mom ever.
Mom: I am, and I hope I get to meet the girl I’m getting these for. Plus, send me money. These were not cheap. But, just in case, I bought myself some too because, obviously, they’re cool.
Me: WTF, Mom? You don’t even like plants.
Mom: But these are a must-have, apparently. Maybe I’ll get into them.
Me: You’re a nut.
She sends me the total, and I send the money right away before writing her back.
Mom: Am I? Or am I smart because this will give us something to talk about if she’s nervous when she first meets me?
I roll my eyes; they’ll get along perfectly. They don’t need something to talk about, but I don’t say that. Also, I’m just like my mom. Some say I get my cockiness from my dad, but my mom is a badass chick.
Me: We’ll see. She’s being a weirdo.
Mom: Hey, the best of us are weird.
She’s got that right. I grin as I lay my phone down and close my eyes before nuzzling my nose into the pillow. I know for a fact that I’m getting in too deep, too quick. That’s usually why I don’t hang with girls; I fuck them and leave them. For one, I’ve never really vibed with anyone the way I have with Angie. And for two, I know myself. I love love. I love the feeling it brings me, and I love spoiling the person I care for. I’m already feeling things for her, and all I want is to further those feelings in the bedroom. I want her, desperately, but I know good and well she can’t love me back until she loves herself.
The problem is, I don’t know how in the hell I’m supposed to keep my hands, tongue, and dick away from Angela Paxton.
But I will.
Chapter Twenty
Angie
* * *
I think back on all those times I’d watch Owen with girl after girl and think how he must be such a horndog and probably addicted to sex. I mean, he was and still is a walking sex god. He just exudes sexiness. I was actually surprised when we started dating that he didn’t push to get in my pants sooner. He had chances. While I know my opinion of him has changed and I now know he is a nice guy, that doesn’t mean I was convinced when we headed back to my place it wasn’t for sex. I even asked my place or his, and it wasn’t to hang. I wanted to do the deed, but instead of getting it on like Donkey Kong—in the dark, like I had planned—we watched Netflix until we fell asleep.
It was completely not what I was expecting, but it was nice. I hadn’t fallen asleep with a guy in a very long time, but when I woke up, I decided that Owen was the best to sleep with. He’s so big and warm that I didn’t need a blanket. He also likes to cuddle and I love to cuddle, so it was nice to be held all night. Also, the first thing he said to me?
Good morning, gorgeous.
Swoon! But that wasn’t even the best part; he took me to get breakfast before school. It was so nice and fun to be with him before I headed off. When it was time for me to go, he only kissed me goodbye. He didn’t convince me to skip school and go to bed or anything along those lines. He only kissed me. That was it. It was all very surprising for me.
But now that it’s been three weeks, I’m absolutely dumbfounded. I honestly didn’t believe Owen when he said he wouldn’t take me to bed until I would do it with the lights on or whatever he meant by what he said. But apparently Owen Adler has the patience of a saint. Or he knew he’d be gone for eleven days and wasn’t worried one bit. As for me, I’m dying. When we work out, he’s only in shorts with that ass all thick and yummy. I haven’t stayed at his house—or him at mine since that night—and it’s all becoming too much. I want him. Bad.
Especially when he’s looking at me on FaceTime in nothing but a pair of boxers as he inhales some pasta and breadsticks. “How’s school?”
“Good,” I say, eating my own pasta. We decided to have a dinner date over FaceTime. It’s silly, I know, but it’s nice not to eat alone. I miss him. A lot. “Everything is getting a little harder. I’m more overwhelmed by the case load since I feel as if I do nothing but deal with data at work, but then I need data for my papers. It’s insane, but I’m still carrying a 4.0.”