Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 148473 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 742(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148473 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 742(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
Asher turns to me, his eyes glinting with curiosity. “You watch reality shows?”
I lift my chin high. “They’re my guilty pleasure.”
Asher leans back, clearly delighted in a whole new way. “I had no idea.”
Before I can respond, Leighton chimes in, “Oh, you’ll learn all about her guilty pleasures soon enough.”
He will?
Fable smirks. “So, you might want to swap out the lotion on your nightstand for coconut oil.”
My face flames. “I’m going to kill you guys. We’re not moving in together.”
Asher’s smile freezes, but his eyes flicker with…excitement as he takes in this detail. “But if we were, I should stock up on lube?”
Red. I am all the red in every crayon box in the universe. “You’re all dead to me,” I hiss at the traitors known as my former best friends.
Leighton stands, grabbing her bag and tossing a look over her shoulder. “It goes both ways. You should probably lock the bathroom door when you’re enjoying yourself in the shower.”
The devils. The absolute devils. “We’re not living together. And you all need to go!” I groan.
“Unless you want Maeve to walk in on you,” Fable adds with the sauciest of winks as she pops up, along with Everly and Josie.
Groaning, I drag a hand down my face. “Don’t you all have somewhere to be right now?”
“Other than divulging the details of your vibrator collection?” Josie calls over her shoulder as she grabs her bag, and an elderly woman at a nearby table shoots me a look and then a wink.
I hold out my hands at my friends, like how could you. “You’re all the worst.”
“Did you mean we’re all equal opportunity here?” Josie says, with an oh-so-innocent look behind her glasses. “Since we’re concerned about his needs too.”
“Yes, concern. Exactly. You’re sooo concerned,” I say dryly.
Leighton’s jaw drops as she stares at my face. My cheeks to be exact. “Maeve. I didn’t know you could get embarrassed.”
“It happens once in a blue moon for our chief troublemaker,” Everly chimes in, setting a hand on my shoulder.
“Why are you all still here?” I ask with a groan.
“We can stay and give you more tips,” Fable offers.
“By all means,” Asher says, sweeping out a hand, and now he’s in trouble too.
I flick my eyes to him and raise a finger. “Do not feed the animals at the zoo,” I warn.
“That’s good advice too. It kind of applies to you as well. Asher, if you leave out the coconut oil, Maeve might never go to work,” Josie calls over her shoulder as she heads out, “since she likes a lot of private time.”
I bury my face in my hands as the clicks of their shoes finally, mercifully, fade. And when I manage to peel my palms off my cheeks a millennia later, Asher slowly turns to me, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. “That was interesting.”
How do I even begin to explain what just happened? I did not expect that ambush. “My friends are dicks. What can you do? I’m sorry.”
I’m especially annoyed that they mentioned that he’d want to engage in some self-care since the images flashing through my head right now are obscene. Deliciously, delightfully obscene, and I’m probably going to need to block out a whole lot of time tonight with my battery-operated friends.
But the images aren’t going away as I look at him mere inches from me. I stare a little shamelessly, cataloging my best friend, from that tousled hair to his smirk to the way he fills out that Henley. His chest muscles call out for my hands. His abs demand my attention. His arms need to be explored. “Why Henleys?” I blurt.
He furrows his brow. “What do you mean?”
“Why do they look so good?” I say, then instantly regret it. I need to shut up. Like I wanted my friends to do.
He plucks at the forest green material, then looks back at me, holding my gaze. “Oh, this? You like it?” It’s asked as a challenge. In a rasp. Like the way I imagined he’d said, you have a lovely mouth.
“It’s nice,” I say, like I’m simply conceding when really, the way the shirt fits him is too hot for my own good.
“Nice? Did you mean it’s having a flamingo effect on you?” he asks, and great. Now I’m thinking about what he’s wearing under those clothes. Then he leans closer and says in a husky voice, “Or really, I should say peacocks today.”
It takes my brain a few seconds to catch up, but when it does, I clamp my legs shut, then suck in a breath. I should leave this alone. Really, I should. But I’ve never been good at resisting a cookie. “Fitting.”
“Is it?” he asks, with a curve of his lips. He loves toying with me.
And I think…I love being toyed with by him. That heady feeling spreads through my soul again, flooding me with warmth.