Page 41 of Big Girl Panties

"No, I don't want to wear…"

"I kept a lot of his things that are important to me," she said gently. "His old sweatpants aren't one of them. Trust me."

As she disappeared again, I found myself hoping the storm would last all night.

Because leaving her was the last thing I wanted to do.

Chapter 16

Rock my World (And my Couch)

Thunder cracked, rattling the windows, and the fire of the candle flame flickered, but I barely noticed over the half-naked tattooed man standing in my kitchen.

I tugged at the hem of my oversized shirt, painfully aware of how it hung awkwardly off one shoulder, and wished I had taken the time to at least run a brush through my tangled, wet hair.

We weren't even completely dressed before the power in the old building went out, and we had to find all the candles in my apartment.

Matt moved around the kitchen. Each time he glanced my way, my heart skipped a beat, and a warm flutter rippled through my stomach. I caught myself holding my breath, only to release it in a shaky exhale when he turned away.

He made me nervous, not in an I-want-to-throw-up way, but in a butterflies-in-my-stomach kind of way. Glancing out the corner of my eyes, I studied him. His island-tanned skin glistened in the candlelight, and his dark hair fell loosely to his shoulders in wet waves. He stood shirtless in a pair of low, very low, dangerously low-hanging grey sweatpants and nothing else.

He reached for the wine bottle, arm stretching across the counter. The movement pulled his shoulders taut, and I found myself tracing the line of muscle with my eyes. When he caught me staring, heat pooled low in my belly. "See something you like?" His voice was rougher than before.

I forced my eyes back to his face, but they betrayed me, dropping to trace the lean muscle of his torso before I could stop them. When I realized where I was looking, I jerked my gaze away, but the damage was done.

I bit my lip, my mouth suddenly dry. Unbidden, images flashed through my mind: his hands on my skin, his body pressing me into the mattress, his lips on mine.

"Earth to Brooke." His voice snapped me back to reality, a hint of amusement in his tone.

I blinked, heat creeping up my neck. "Hmm?"

"You seem… lost in thought." His lips quirked into a half-smile.

"Oh, I was just," I fumbled for words, "admiring the, uh, craftsmanship. Of your tattoos."

He chuckled, low and warm. "Is that what we're calling it now?"

He slid the wine toward me, his fingers brushing mine as I reached for it. For a heartbeat, neither of us moved to break the contact. Then Karen's judgmental meow shattered the moment, and we both pulled back, laughing.

"Your cat is staring at me.".

I looked up at Karen, who was perched on top of the refrigerator, giving him the stink eye. "She's particular about humans."

He cocked a brow. "Particular, how?"

"Well, she hates everyone." I tucked a wet strand of hair behind my ear. "She tortured my ex."

Matt smiled. "Smart cat."

Karen preened, clearly pleased with the compliment, but her suspicious glare never wavered.

The look in Matt's eyes screamed that he had something to say or a question to ask.

I raised an eyebrow. "You've got that look."

He ran a hand through his hair, glancing away. "What look?"

"The one that says you're dying to ask me something." I took a sip of wine, waiting.