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“Yup.”
My eyes slowly closed as my humiliation settled over me.
“Fruit of the Loom?” he asked.
Of course he would comment on my ugly undies.
“Everyone knows cotton wicks away sweat, Easton. Don’t be a dick.”
“Is it a requirement they be granny style to effectively wick away the moisture?”
Ugh.
He was annoying.
“You’re still being a dick.”
I blamed his smile for my moment of insanity. I tossed the thin blanket off, rolled three times before I hit the other edge of the bed, and tossed my legs over the side. When I was on my feet I whirled around and planted my hands on my hips.
“By the way, you’re welcome,” he said.
“I wasn’t thanking you for being a dick.”
Easton’s smile turned into a smirk.
Did he think…
“And, I wasn’t dreaming about you,” I quickly denied even though I was pretty sure that was another lie. I didn’t actually see the man who was touching me, though I’d never had a sex dream prior to meeting Easton, so there was a strong possibility he had fueled my nocturnal near-orgasm.
That stupid sexy brow lifted again.
“I think this is where I’m supposed to quote Shakespeare.” When I remained silent, he went on, “You know, from Hamlet. ‘The lady doth protest—”
“Yes, Easton, I know the quote.”
There was that damn smile again.
“But I was actually referring to covering you up. When I came in you were—”
“Is it possible for you to not be an asshole?” I seethed.
“Oh, good. You two are already at the name calling portion of the dance.”
I jolted at the new voice.
Easton’s eyes went over my shoulder and he smiled.
After I ascertained I wasn’t going to be murdered in my ugly-ass granny-panties, I turned my head, found Smith standing in the open door to the balcony looking amused, and felt my temper snap.
“By all means, come in, make yourself at home.”
Smith Everette’s stupid smile was just as infuriating as Easton’s.
“No time, we gotta jam.”
Thank God they were leaving.
“Well then, don’t let me keep you—”
