Her white tank top hugged those perfect tits of hers.
Could you be jealous of a tank top?
Her jeans were tight and tapered off down her legs—where she wore high-heeled, stylish beige, ankle boots.
Christ.
Did I just use the word “ankle boots?”
I really needed to stop reading those chick novels.
She sauntered over to me and gave me a sweet—almost sad—smile. “Ready?” she asked with a resigned tone to her voice.
I quickly stood up, and I—I swear to you I couldn’t help it—not that I wanted to—I set my hands on her shoulders and really took her all in.
She smelled like coconut, and it called to me—I kid you fuckin’ not—her scent called me and drew me in like a moth to a flame.
The only thing that was different?
I didn’t give a rat’s ass if I burned up right in front of her.
It would be totally, and completely worth it for the few seconds of being with Lexi.
Her sweater was so soft, it melted into my hands as they slid down her arms.
“You look amazing,” I said, then bent in to kiss her.
Before my lips touched hers, she whispered, “Trey,” with an adorable little gasp as I took her mouth.
Fuck.
She tasted like bubble gum.
Double Bubble.
She bought it in the big, plastic bucket in bulk.
And she bought it in bulk because she was addicted to the stuff.
To bubble gum.
I didn’t know how many pieces she chewed during the last two days.
But, it was a hell of a lot.
I’d only meant to give her a quick peck on the lips, but man, oh, man—once I started kissing Lexi Hunter—it was almost impossible to stop.
“Trey,” she mumbled as I continued to kiss her, “cameras.”
Oh, yeah.
Those stupid things.
I’d never had to worry too much about them.
So far, the majority of the reality show had been centered around all of Gigi and Beau’s dramas.
And trust me—there had been many.