"Morning." She yawns, holding a hand over her mouth. "What were you yelling about?"
"Nothing. I was on the phone with Chance and Elena."
"You should've let me say hi too."
"Sorry. They were in a sarcastic mood, anyway."
Arden strolls over to the sofa but sits on the coffee table instead. She yawns again. "How's the happy couple?"
"Irritating and nosy."
She tilts forward to touch my knee. "Did you tell them anything about us?"
"If you mean did I tell them we slept together and it was the best sex ever, no." Now I'm squirming, because her hand on my knee has suddenly become the biggest turn-on in history. Her lack of substantial clothing doesn't help either. "But if you mean did I tell them we're dating, the answer is yes. I asked if Elena would mind that."
"What did she say?"
"That I need to ask your permission, not hers."
Arden smiles inthatway, the one that dimples her cheeks and makes me want to drag her into my arms for a kiss so deep it'll be almost like sex. "You already have my permission, Reese, for dating and a relationship. Date me like crazy, date me like you really mean it, like you---"
"I understand." And I'm positive whatever she'd wanted to say next would've diverted all the blood in my body to one particular region. "Let's go out for breakfast this morning."
"Ooooh, I'd love that."
"You should pick the restaurant, love. I don't know what's good around here."
She rubs her palms together, her tongue poking out between her teeth while she considers the options.
And I want to fuck her. On the coffee table.
Instead, I tell her, "Why don't you think about where you'd like to eat while you get dressed?"
"Okay." She hops off the table and heads for the hallway, but she stops halfway there to glance back at me. "I really like you, Reese. You're lots of fun and so sweet. Not at all what I thought a player would be like."
She goes into her bedroom and shuts the door.
Arden likes me.
Chance had teased me about whether I like her, and I'd gotten snarky about it. How do I feel about Arden Clover Pesti?
I like her too. A lot.
For some reason, I feel the need to change into nicer clothes, so I hurry down the hall. My old jeans and T-shirt don't seem good enough for a formal breakfast with Arden. Unless she plans to take me to a fast-food restaurant. Then I'll be overdressed.
I freeze halfway down the hall. What am I going to wear?
Oh no. I've turned into a woman.
The door to Arden's bedroom flies open.
She's standing there wearing denim cut-offs that barely cover her arse and---what do they call those things?---a tube top with the tiniest sweater I've ever seen. It covers her shoulders, though barely, and stops a few inches past her underarms. The thing looks like it shrank in the wash, or maybe it's a doll's clothing.
But it's her feet that make me choke on my own tongue.
She wears heels so slender I can't imagine how she stays upright, and so high that I think she might be taller than I am while she's wearing those shoes. They have thin straps to hold them on her feet, and to show off her lavender-painted toenails. Those high heels are the sexiest thing I've ever seen.
And I want to lay her down on the floor, toss her legs over my shoulders, and take her right here. I want that even more than I did a few minutes ago. So badly that I'm fisting my hands and gritting my teeth.