“It’s sweet.”
“It’s obnoxious. Next thing you know, you’ll be marrying me and wondering what happened!”
He bites down on his bottom lip, and my eyes slip down to stare at his mouth.
He probably tastes good too.
He clears his throat, and I shift on his lap. Right, what was I saying?
“Um…now do you see why I had to move out?”
He moves his legs underneath me, and his hands go to my hips again, pushing me slightly to the right.
“Can I have my Kindle back now?”
I huff in annoyance. “For real, man?”
“Yeah, there’s nothing to be done about it.”
“You’ll have to spend your weekend with my family. There’s a chance we’ll burn something down, or someone’ll end up in jail.”
“Are you saying you have a record?”
“Not yet,” I mutter and then yawn.
Shit, I’m pooped. What the hell did I get sick with?
This is no joke.
Suddenly the door opens, and I stare as Sem and Luke reappear. My worst fucking nightmare. Right in front of me.
“Aw, so cute. Look at those two,” Sem says to Luke, noting that I’m still firmly planted on Whit’s lap.
Not that I feel like moving. He’s comfortable. Like a nice soft blanket.
“Did you give them a key?” I ask, and Whit shrugs like it’s no big deal. He has no idea what he’s asking for.
“Give me the key,” I say, holding out my hand and wiggling my fingers.
“No need to be aggressive,” Sem says as he slaps the metal in my palm, a manic smile on his face. “That’s why we were coming back. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”
And then they’re gone again, the door shutting on a quiet snick.
“We need to get the lock’s changed.”
“Why?”
“They made copies. They’ll show up unannounced at all hours. Believe me. They have no boundaries.”
Whit’s unconcerned. He’s back to reading, and I want to poke him. But instead, I just lean into him and rest the back of my head on his shoulder.
He doesn’t say anything, just goes back to reading. Like two guys chillin’ on an overstuffed chair is totally normal. I’ve never sat on a man’s lap in my entire adult life, but I really fucking like it.
Usually, I’m the one being sat on because I’m bigger, and I can’t very well plant my muscular frame on some petite girl.
Not that Whit is bigger than me. He’s not. But for some reason, he doesn’t seem to mind it.
“I have to be crushing you,” I say, and Whit peeks at me.