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I tug at the neck of my hoodie. “Did you…did you watch it?”
He recoils. “Of course not! I deleted it immediately.”
A tiny part of me is disappointed. The rest of me is relieved. Or maybe it’s the reverse. I can’t read his expression or tell if the idea disturbs him or what. “So you actually don’t know if anything happened. That’s you hypothesizing.” This is good. I can deny it. “Maybe I went into your bedroom to get the boys.”
His voice lowers to a growl that I feel in all the rightest-wrong parts of my body. “We both know that’s a lie because you forgot to wash my sheets.”
I open and close my mouth twice as we stare each other down. Another wave of humiliation washes over me. Which is very conflicting considering all the other things happening in my body. I try to keep my eyes on the floor, but they’re disobedient assholes and lift anyway.
“It’s the first time that’s ever happened,” I blurt.
“Elaborate,” Hollis demands.
“You…want me to tell you what exactly I did?”
His teeth grind together. “No, Peggy. I don’t want details. The first time what’s ever happened.”
“The whole thing. The everything.” Explaining this is a lot like tripping around landmines. I cannot show my hand. The only thing worse than having a crush on my dad’s best friend would be him finding out about it. “I was reading a spicy book and snuggling with the kitties, and I’d just gotten my new silicone friend, and one thing led to another, and I’m really sorry.” I mash my lips together, but it doesn’t stop the word vomit. “I meant to wash the sheets. You weren’t supposed to know. It won’t ever happen again.”
He drags his tongue across his bottom lip. They’re so full. So kissable.
I need to stop noticing these things. It’s making my vagina ping despite how awkward this is, or maybe because of it? It’s probably wrong that I half wish he hadn’t erased the video. Definitely wrong.
“This doesn’t explain why you ended up in my shower.” His low, gravelly tone makes my stupid nipples tighten.
My anxiety takes over, and I blurt out more honesty than I mean to. “I was all sweaty after the…” I wave my hand. “And I should have gone back to my place, or to my dad’s, but the shower was right there, and your jet placement is perfect for—” Why can’t I lie?
He arches one dark, sexy eyebrow. Fuck him and his hotness. No, no. No fucking my dad’s best friend, who is more than ten years older than me. The thought is already in my head, and my stupid imagination is forming a scene I’ll probably use as fodder later, when Batdick and I are alone.
“Perfect for what?” he grinds out.
“It’s just nicer.” Thank God I wasn’t completely honest for once.
His voice is raw silk dragged over bare skin. “And this is the first time you’ve done this? Taken care of your…needs in my bed?”
I run my tongue along my bottom lip. My mouth is so dry. I’ve already told him this. Maybe he’s trying to catch me in a lie. “Yes.”
His nostrils flare. His fists clench and release. His eyes close, and his words are barely audible when he murmurs, “If things were different…”
My breath leaves me on a whoosh. What does that mean? If things were different, then what? Would he want me the way I want him? Would the idea of me getting off in his bed turn him on instead of making things awkward between us? What if things were different?
“Hollis.” His name is barely a sound.
He shakes his head, and his lids flip open. From one second to the next, his entire demeanor shifts. “You have your own apartment. Why not take care of your needs there? Or your old bedroom at Roman’s. That would have been better than my bed.”
“You’ve seen my bedroom at my dad’s. I outgrew Barbie when I was nine.” I don’t have the heart to tell my dad that, though. “It doesn’t do a good job of setting the mood.”
“What’s wrong with your own apartment, then?” He’s back to disapproving.
“I have a roommate, and sometimes it’s nice to just let go and not worry about how much noise I’m making, or whether Rix can hear me through the door. It’s hard to relax when she’s home, and then it takes forever and there’s chafing.” Why can’t I quit when I’m ahead? Why do I keep spewing exceptionally blunt honesty?
Hollis holds up a hand. His head looks like it’s about to explode. “Stop.”
At least I’m not the only one mortified here. “Oh, God.” I raise my hand in front of my mouth. “Did those videos have sound?” I really let loose in every sense of the word when I did the unthinkable in his bed.
“No. At least I don’t think there’s sound. And like I said, I erased them without watching.” His voice is stern when he declares, “That can’t happen again. Ever.”
I’m about to agree—even if I don’t mean it—when a long, loud feminine moan filters down the hall. Obviously, Tristan and Rix are getting to the good part.
