“Why?” she asked, nervousness in her voice.
With a groan, I answered, “He broke up with Bianca.”
“Oh. No. Hell no. Code freaking red! I’m on my way to your place with the ice cream and movies.”
Jen and I sat in the living room, in our pajamas with the TV turned up. Top Gun was playing, and we squealed like school girls when the volleyball scene came on. Lucas came walking into the room. His hand raked through his hair, clearly pissed we had woken him up.
My eyes nearly bugged out of my head as he focused on the TV, wearing practically no clothes. “It’s one in the morning. Are you two serious right now? Top Gun?”
Jen placed her finger on my chin and closed my gaping mouth. I had a good excuse for it. Lucas had come out of his room dressed in nothing but thin sweats that left nothing to the imagination as far as his package was concerned. And his chest was exposed. Void of any shirt, leaving his impressive chest on display.
“Wow,” Jen whispered; I nodded. Lucas Foster had a body to die for. I found myself hating Bianca all over again for getting to sleep next to him for years. Touch him. Run her tongue over his body. Scream out his name. Bitch.
Lucas noticed both of us staring. My eyes wandered down to his crotch. Instead of letting out a moan like I wanted to, I went in the opposite direction. I scrunched up my nose and said, “Huh.” Then I flicked my eyes back up at him.
He glared at me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I shrugged, glancing at his crotch again. “Nothing.”
He walked closer to us. “You just looked at my junk and scrunched up your nose, Paige. Why?”
Jen cleared her throat and stood. “Okay, so this is awkward. I’m going to go to the little girl’s room while you two…roommates…work this out.”
Once Jen was out of the room, Lucas reached down and adjusted himself. I wanted to die, but I sat there, not a single emotion on my face. He’d done it on purpose, and if he thought I was going to give him any sort of reaction, he was insane.
“It’s nothing, Lucas. I just remembered you differently.”
His eyebrow rose. “Differently?”
“Yeah,” I said with in a half shrug. “I guess because I was so young and naïve, it seemed…”
I laughed and purposely didn’t finish my sentence.
“Are you saying you think I’m small?”
My eyes drifted to his very impressive bulge. His growing bulge. Oh my goodness, why was he getting hard? Was that from me looking at him? Or was it from talking about it? A man’s penis was a weird and complex thing.
“I’m saying at the time I thought you were impressive, but you know.” I winked.
Frustration clouded his face, and it was hard not to smile. “No, Paige. I don’t know.”
I sighed and looked up at him. “I’ve seen other cocks since then and you’re…average.”
The look of pure shock almost made me burst out laughing. I looked around him and back at the TV.
“Average? You’re saying you think my cock is average?”
I waved him off. “I’m missing the movie, Lucas.”
He stepped in front of me, his midsection right at eye level. “You think I’m average?”
“Okay,” I said, standing, because let’s be honest, a girl cannot have a way-above-average dick at eye level and not want to play with it. Lucas’s or not. Especially if that girl hasn’t had sex in forever.
“Lucas, this is silly. I’m sure you’re sporting a nice little package.”
“You just said little.”
I rolled my eyes. “What do you want me to say?”
He smiled.
I frowned and folded my arms across my chest, noticing how he quickly took a peek at my breasts before meeting my gaze again.
“You need an ego boost that bad, huh? What’s the matter, did your girlfriend not compliment your dick enough? Maybe she had a reason not to,” I said with a shrug.
His smile faded. “You are not a nice person, Paige.”
“Then move out.”
“Never. Oh, and in case you forgot, the house is haunted.”
I laughed. “It is not.”
He lifted a brow. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
He turned, and I couldn’t help but look at his perfect ass as he retreated. I bit my teeth into my lip and forced myself not to moan by digging my nails into my palms.
“Stop looking at my ass,” Lucas called as he rounded the corner.
“You’re an asshole, and I wasn’t looking at your ass!” I cried out.
“Beg to differ, you were totally checking out that ass,” Jen said as she walked back into the room.
“He drives me mad,” I said, dropping back on the sofa.
“Yeah, he’s something else. I give it three weeks.” Jen grabbed her pillow and headed for the stairs.
Following her lead, I turned off the TV. “Three weeks for what?”