“Try it on,” Colt says, grinning at me.
“With you here?” I ask, cocking a brow at him.
“Dude, I’ve seen tits before.”
“Uh huh.”
“Seriously,” he says. “We used to be just like the Dolces. I’ve seen about ninety percent of the tits in the senior class.”
I bite back a smile. “I’m not in the senior class.”
“I’ve seen ninety percent of the junior tits, too,” he says. “Trust me, Teeny, yours are hardly something to write home about.”
“Doesn’t mean I want to show them to you.”
“You’re wearing a bra, aren’t you? It’s no different from me seeing you in a swimsuit. I’ll even sit on the bed like a good boy if you’re afraid I can’t keep my hands to myself. You need a second opinion on what looks good, anyway.”
I glare at him until he goes over to the bed and flops down with a grin, tucking his hands behind his head. “Showtime, baby,” he says, adjusting his hips on the bed like he wants to make sure I notice he has a hard-on.
“I’m not hooking up with you,” I say, swallowing and tearing my eyes away from his groin.
“Okay,” he says, a smug grin on his face.
“I mean it,” I warn. “If that’s why you brought me here, just take me back to school and forget it.”
“I know you’ve got a lady boner for Royal Dickwad,” he says. “But he got what he wanted from you, and now you’re fair game for everyone else.”
“Way to make a girl feel special,” I say, rolling my eyes.
I turn away and peel off my shirt, dropping it on the floor, keeping my back to Colt. The truth is, I don’t want to be special to Colt. That wouldn’t be fair. I like him, but not that way, and if he liked me that way, things would be awkward. I don’t want to hurt him. I like that his feelings don’t go deeper than friendship and lust.
“You’ve got more ink than I realized.”
“Yep,” I say, pulling my hair over my shoulder and turning the other way to show Colt the ink running up my side and onto my back, over my shoulder blade and shoulder. I flash him a smile over my shoulder, and he moans and grabs his dick.
“Fuck, Teeny, you’re such a tease.”
“I told you up front there would be no sex,” I say. “You’re the one who wanted to watch me undress.”
“I can’t decide if the torture is worth it.”
“Oh, it’s worth it,” I say, smiling where he can’t see it this time. I pull on a shirt from Mabel’s closet and start buttoning it.
“Hey, I’m just saying,” Colt drawls. “I’m at your service in case that weed made you horny, Queen Teeny. Teeny Queenie? I’ll have to think on that one.”
“You’re so fucking high right now,” I say, laughing as I reach for the skirt section, since they’re a little more forgiving than pants.
“Want to know the name of Royal’s oldest brother?” he asks. “King. His name is fucking King.”
I snort at that. “Seriously? Their family sure thought highly of their sons. Probably sucked being the only girl in that family. Surprised she wasn’t named Queen or Princess or something equally unfortunate.”
I find a skirt, undo my jeans, and slip out of them. Colt groans behind me. I bite my lip to keep from smiling. I’m not the type to usually care what guys think of me one way or another—I’m not dressing for them. But it’s still flattering when one does notice me or thinks I’m hot, especially when he looks like Colt Darling.
When I turn back around, he grins and runs a finger slowly along the ridge in his pants. “Wanna ride, cowgirl?”
I smile back and spread my arms wide. “Do I look like your sister?”
“Dude, that’s so wrong,” he says, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his palms into them. “You legit just killed my boner. It’s dying as we speak. A slow and painful death, I might add.”