He was still holding my face, and staring at me with an amused expression.
“Are you trying to let me down easy? I can handle the truth. At casting calls, they don’t mince words. I’ve been told to my face I’m not attractive enough. That hurts. Also, too old, too young, too tall, too short. I’ve heard everything. So, lay it on me. Are you turning me down because I drive a crappy green van, live in a run-down apartment, and I’m not as rich and famous as your last boyfriend?”
“What I mean is that I’m the kind of smart girl who does extremely stupid things. Like walk around shirtless with the blinds open. And go running through the woods at night. Or, come to think of it, na**d trespassing by day. I do a lot of stupid things, but that stops now.”
“So you don’t want to use me as your emotional Band-Aid and personal play toy for nine days?”
I bit my lip. “No?”
“Sounds like a question.”
He closed the distance and rubbed the tip of his nose against mine.
“I should go back to Dalton’s house,” I said. “That’s where I was staying. Let’s have a cup of coffee, and let’s keep everything between us professional from now on. We can heal each other’s emotional wounds as friends. That could work.”
He withdrew his hands from the sides of my face and pulled back to stand up straight.
“One cup of coffee,” he said. “Then I’ll drive you wherever you want.”
I nodded, proud yet disappointed by my good decision-making.
Keith pulled the full carafe from the coffee maker, grabbed two mugs from the cupboard, then turned and left the kitchen. He walked into the bedroom—his bedroom—without a word.
I sat at the counter for a moment, my chin on my hands.
His bedroom was where he kept his bed. Beds are not where friends hang out. A friend should not go in there, argued the sensible part of me.
But he has the coffee in there, said another part of me.
And he’s probably naked, said yet another part of me. (That would be our friend, Miss Kitty.)
CHAPTER 5
Despite the urging of some body parts, I wasn’t falling into this new trap of Keith's. Nope. Not going into his bedroom, even if he did have all the coffee.
I wandered over to the washroom, where I freshened up with a quick shower and gave my teeth a brushing. I came out in a towel and sat on the sofa. I expected Keith to come out of the bedroom, fully dressed and laughing about his hilarious joke, but he didn’t.
The door was mostly closed.
I went to the doorway, pushed open the door, and stood there in my towel. The curtains were drawn, and the room was dark and still.
“How’s that coffee?” I called out.
“Drop the towel and get your sweet ass in here, Miss Smarty Pants Class Valedictorian.”
“I was never a valedictorian. That honor went to an evil wench named Brie. She always had the best clothes, and her family was mega-rich.” I had more to say about Brie, but stopped myself. I’m stupid at times, but I do realize high-school girl grudges are of very little interest to men, unless there’s hair-pulling or pillow fights.
The curtains were really thick in Keith’s room, and my eyes hadn’t adjusted yet, so all I could see was shapes. One shape in particular stood out. Oh, yes, he was naked.
“Why don’t you get in here,” he called gently. “Pretend I’m that wench Brie’s boyfriend.”
“She went out with a few different guys.”
“Pretend I’m all of them. Or pretend I’m her daddy.”
I squealed. “Mr. Harrison? He owns the big grocery store in town. I still see him all the time.”
“And?”
“And I’m dropping my towel. Now I’m coming in. Don’t laugh, and don’t look at my butt.”
I slipped into the dark room and closed the door behind me. It was cooler in here than in the rest of the apartment, with the air conditioner whirring steadily.
With his voice deeper than usual, he said, “Why, Peaches. You’ve certainly grown into a fine young woman. I’m so glad you and my daughter are friends.”
“No role-playing,” I said. “You’re an underwear model and I’m a girl who packs chocolate in her purse at all times. This, right here, is the full fantasy.”
I got onto the bed on my hands and knees and crept forward for a kiss.
“We’ll take it slow,” he said, gently caressing my lips with his.
I glanced around the room, stopping when I spotted the packets that were at the ready on his bedside table. We were good to go.
“Good to see you have prophylactics standing by at the ready,” I said. “All the better for licking each other like wild animals.”
“Do you think a dozen is enough?” he asked innocently.
“Sure. If things go sideways, at least we can make a balloon animal zoo.” I kissed him again, enjoying the sense of calm I got when we touched. My pulse wasn’t racing at all. Either I was getting better at staying cool around incredibly hot guys, or there was something different—better—about Keith, compared to he-whose-name-shall-not-be-invoked.
“Your hair is dripping on me,” Keith said.
“Sorry.” I pulled away.
“Shh, don’t be.”
Did he just shush me? Shushing usually makes me angry, but this time, I just sat there quietly as he pulled his robe from a hook near the bed and patted my hair to remove water.
“Nearly done,” he said, and then he did something curious.
I was sitting in the center of the bed with my legs out in front of me. He climbed over my legs, straddling them while facing me. When his butt came down on my thighs, my legs parted to let him sit on the bed. He kept reaching around my head, patting my hair dry, with his money makers nuzzling up against Miss Kitty. Casually. Like, Oh, didn’t see you there, m’lady.
His balls rubbed against my mound as though we were sharing a pair of Fundies*, and I breathed in the scent of his body and ran my hands over the fascinating terrain of his chest.
*Fundies are novelty underwear for two people, often given as a gag gift by people who’ve never actually had sex. This mention of Fundies was in no way sponsored or suggested to me by the wacky pervs who make Fundies.
Keith’s chest was beautiful, rippling under my fingertips as he finished towel-drying my hair. I tried not to think of how I looked to him. Surely after posing together in our underwear the previous day, there were very few surprises for either of us.