And why is he so tan? Does he run around outside with no shirt on?
He’s watching me expectantly, and once again, I’m surprised he seems to be asking me for a favor as opposed to telling me.
“I suppose I could find time later? There are some things I need to grab for my friend’s birthday.”
My friend Anna is turning thirty. We’re organizing a little gathering for her, and I still have to get the basics for a charcuterie board.
“Thanks.”
Drip.
Drip.
“Did you even dry off? Why are you still dripping wet?” All over my carpet.
“Oh—must’ve forgotten.”
Must have forgotten? Who forgets to towel off after a shower? Who just climbs out and walks around dripping wet?
Duke does, apparently.
Bare feet.
Tan legs.
Chest with a smattering of hair in the center; in the valley between his well-defined pecs. Hard nipples. Thick neck.
Stop looking at him, Posey, or he’ll think you’re attracted to him.
You are attracted to him, idiot.
No, I’m not. My type is the business type, collared shirts with coordinating ties and dress pants. Loafers.
Loafers? Since when?
Since…mind your own damn business!
Why am I arguing with myself?
The man is waiting for me to say something, filling up my doorway in the most uncomfortable way.
I don’t believe he possesses social awareness. If he did, he would have taken one look at my face and gone away with his big, beautiful half-naked bod.
“Okay. Well.” I shift in my chair, placing my hands on the desk, clasping them the way I do at school when I’m speaking to a student. “If you could put the list on the counter near the door, that would be lovely.”
His mouth twitches. “Lovely.”
I nod. “Yes. Lovely.”
Stop sayinglovely, Posey. You sound like a puritan.
I’m wearing a polka-dot dress, for Pete's sake, but it’s one my students love. Monday, I have a crayon skirt I wear for art days, but I’m rethinking the entire thing—the last thing I want is to accidentally run into him while I’m leaving and have him catch me wearing a skirt with scribbles.
Not that it matters what he thinks.
I push a hair out of my heated face, blood rising to my cheeks.
“Anything else?” I don’t glance up.