“Bor … ing.” I roll my eyes at his attire, brushing past him and dropping my bag by the credenza. “Where is he?” I make my way to the kitchen, where there are two glasses and a bottle of wine—an odd choice for a sleepover. Hopefully he has apple juice for Romeo. But Eli does score big when I notice the large pizza box from my favorite pizza place.
But pizza has to wait. I want to find Romeo.
“Where’s my little Romeo?” I circle to the living room.
No Roman.
“Wonder Woman is here.” I sneak up the stairs to his room.
No Roman.
After staring at his perfectly made bed inside his dark room, I turn in the doorway. Eli stands at the top of the stairs, nose wrinkled and teeth wedged into his bottom lip.
“He’s playing hide and seek, huh?” I whisper.
Eli eases his head side to side, his gaze making a hungry inspection of me.
My posture slumps. “Then where is he?”
“Um …” He clears his throat. “Julie has him this week.”
“What? But you invited me here tonight! I have it on my calendar. I can show you.”
“No … I …” He rubs his mouth, and I swear he does it to mask his grin.
That makes me livid.
“I asked you to stay the night with me.”
“A sleepover.” I hold out my arms.
Hello!
Seriously, did he miss my pajamas? Pajamas equal sleepover.
“You called it that.” He shakes his head.
“You said for Roman!”
“It was a joke. I had just told you how I’d shamelessly used him to spend time with you. And I smirked and winked when I said it because it was a joke. I thought you knew it was a joke and that Julie had him this week.”
My mind explodes. I can’t formulate a single coherent thought.
Anger.
Confusion.
Embarrassment.
Stupidity.
So many emotions. I don’t know how to deal with them. What to say. Or what to do next.
“I …” I shake my head, jaw slack. “I missed that joke then. I miss a lot of humor.”
“I’m really sorry. Can we just let it go? I have pizza and wine. And I want you to stay tonight.”
Oh god … sex. He invited me over for sex!
Suddenly, his sexy jeans and crisp white tee make sense.
“I have to run home.” I make a straight line to the stairs, but he blocks me from going down them.
“What? No. Why? Did you forget something? I have an extra toothbrush. Just stay.”
I look up, giving him a huge duh look. Clearly, I’m the only one who can see the obvious. “This is not the outfit I would wear to spend the night with you. I have one that will work better. I’ll drive home and get it. But right now, I am not dressed for sex and seduction.”
“Oh, Dorothy …” He chuckles, stepping toward me. “I believe you are.”
I step back.
He steps forward with a look in his eyes. I’ve seen it before. And I’m not wearing the proper clothes for what that look means.
Our little dance ends in his bedroom with his bed hitting the back of my legs, preventing me from taking another step.
I gulp, like the big twenty-ounce gulp.
Run!
Yes, I want to run, fast like Wonder Woman or even leap out the window. But part of me wants to stay because Eli smells like those familiar herbs, one of the rare scents that I like. And he looks sexy, not like he can save the world or anything spectacular like that, but definitely like he can bring his A game in bed.
“I look … um …” My eyes close when he ghosts his lips along my cheek to my mouth.
“Fucking spectacular.” He kisses my top lip before teasing his tongue along the seam of my mouth.
I have no bra on under my tank top. My nipples are usually well-behaved. Eli manages to bring out their wild side, and this is a little embarrassing to me. And I don’t like the way my shirt rubs against them in their erect state. Too itchy.
Then there’s the underwear situation. Yes, it’s a situation. Wonder Woman underwear that looks like boys briefs, but they’re not for boys. Really. I bought them online, and it specifically said youth girls’. (Petite peeps like me can wear some youth-sized clothing.)
If he sees them, he might be offended. Wondering if I’d planned on showing Romeo my undies.
I had no such plans. But it could look that way.
I only wore them because I have them. And for my own personal feeling of awesomeness, I wanted to feel as much like Wonder Woman as I could.
Turning my head, I break the kiss. “This shirt is scratching my nipples.”
He studies me for a few seconds and grins, grabbing the hem to my shirt.
“No.” I hug myself to keep him from removing my top. “I need to change my underwear first.”
His eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “Did you have an accident?”