"Ready to go?" she asks. When she looks down at my feet, she says, "You might want shoes."
"I know." The words come out as a growl. "I was going to change into something... else."
"Don't bother." She scans me up and down, her lips curving into a sensual smile. "You look plenty hot already. I can feel my panties melting as we speak."
I cough into my fist, mumble something even I can't understand, and rush into my room to get my shoes. When I return to Arden, she's leaning back against the wall beside her bedroom door, swinging a tiny lavender purse in one hand.
Somehow, I prevent myself from mauling her and offer her my arm like a gentleman would, though my feelings toward her at this moment are the exact opposite of gentlemanly.
Chance and Elena are fine with me dating Arden, so maybe they won't mind if I...
No, no, no, and absolutely fucking no, you flaming arsehole.
I ignore my carnal urges and escort Arden to the cafe she's chosen for us. It's a casual place, so I fit right in. Arden couldn't fit in if she tried, and I don't want her to. It's not because she's "kooky," as she calls it. She's a stunning woman, and whenever she smiles, the entire world lights up. Her laughter should be patented as a cure for depression. It makes me feel good every single time.
While I listen to Arden ordering our breakfast, I can't help smiling. She's thoroughly adorable. And yes, I let her order for me, because I'm that sort of modern man. You know, the type who lets women do everything for him, not because he's lazy but because he knows that's what women like. I respect female power and all that bollocks. I'm an evolved man.
All right, the real reason I let her order for me is because I love the sound of her voice.
But I do respect her, which feels strange. I like her, I respect her, and I want to shag her. Maybe I have evolved.
We eat crepes filled with sliced bananas and served with caramel sauce on top. I'm not sure about this meal, but I give it a go---and end up liking it. Arden makes me want to try new things. I gave her a new experience too, but I'm not sure sex is as important as trying new foods or going to new places I never would have visited on my own. Like the science museum. Or Coney Island.
The thought stops me. I'm holding a forkful of banana-filled crepe to my lips but can't move another millimeter to eat it. Going to a museum is better than sex? Did I just think that?
"Are you okay?" Arden asks. "You look kind of pale all of a sudden."
I shake off my disturbing thought and look at her. She's so bloody beautiful. And sweet. And clever. She's the most perfect woman I've ever met.
"Reese?"
"Sorry, fine, yes." I shove the forkful of crepe into my mouth and chew it while I try to figure out what's happening to me. Once I've swallowed my mouthful of food, I attempt to speak without sounding like an idiot. "There's nothing wrong with me. I had a strange thought, that's all."
"What were you thinking about?"
You.But I don't say that. I can't. My vocal cords refuse to produce any sound. I shrug and eat the rest of my breakfast, consuming bite after bite without any space between bites so I can't be tempted to blurt out stupid things.
Arden watches me for a moment, seeming a bit suspicious, but soon she goes back to eating her crepe. She doesn't ask me about my strange thought anymore.
I let her take me wherever she wants to go. We visit every tiny, off-the-map tourist spot in the city, and some in New Jersey too, and I love every second of it. Arden can turn anything into a wildly entertaining experience. I even agree to pose for a selfie with her, like we did at the science museum, because she seems to love those. I slip an arm around her waist and smile while she takes the picture.
And I haven't even thought about shagging her in at least two hours.
Chapter Fourteen
Arden
When we get home, after a day of sightseeing and eating and laughing and kissing, I text Elena the selfie of me and Reese that I took today. She responds a few minutes later with a series of emojis that all include hearts or kissing lips. I'm not kissing Reese in the photo, so I have no idea why she's doing that.
I reply with an emoji of a face with its tongue sticking out.
Yeah, maybe we're both reverting to junior high behavior.
But it's not funny at all when Elena calls me a few minutes later and says, "You're sleeping with Reese, aren't you?"
"What?" I can play dumb, even though I'm not.
"Come on, Arden. You took a selfie with him, and I've never seen you do that with any of those other guys."