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She glowered at it and then snickered because she couldn’t be mad if she wanted to.
After she plugged her phone in on the bedside table, she got her sleep clothes out of her bag and froze.
When she’d packed that afternoon, she’d still been all mixed up about André and what that kiss may or may not have meant and she’d wanted to keep him near. If only symbolically.
So she’d brought one of his old shirts she’d stolen from him years ago. It was a gray t-shirt, branded with the university logo where he’d gotten his master’s.
There was no way she could act as if it had come from anyone else. He’d know instantly that it had been his and why she still had it.
She dug through her bag, looking for an alternative to sleep in. She had a couple tank tops; she could just wear one of those and leave the university tee in her bag. He’d never have to know.
Though that meant she’d be in a form-fitting tank and cotton panties.
In her defense, she’d had no idea she’d be sharing a bed with the sexiest man alive. Because that’s what he was. She’d fight anyone who said different.
The door to the bathroom opened and André came out in gray sweats and nothing else. He rubbed a towel over his wet hair and crossed the hardwood floor in his bare feet.
“Bathroom’s yours,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed.
She grabbed the towel and her entire bag, and scurried into the bathroom.
But not before she took one last look at all his suntanned glory.
The man was a specimen.
Tight, rock-hard abs; defined chest and shoulders; long, lean arms; a sprinkle of hair on his chest and small patch visible above the waistband of his pants. And gray sweatpants? Had he done that on purpose.
She could drool.
She was drooling.
Dammit.
She closed the door to the bathroom and just focused on getting clean.
One thing at a time.
First, get clean.
Then, get lectured.
Last, try to sleep next to the most perfect body known to man and pretend you have normal, containable, non-lusty thoughts about him.
Easy.
CHAPTERSIXTEEN
*PUT YOUR ARMS AROUND ME*
NIKKI
She left the bathroom and stopped at the foot of the bed.
Just stopped.
In mind and body.
André lay on his back on top of the covers, his arms stretched up and folded over his eyes. The hard planes of his muscles wrapped in skin that looked like golden silk in the yellow light of the bedside lamp. The steady rise and fall of his chest suggested he was sleeping.
