Page 20 of Foreplay on Words

We stood in his open front door and momentarily stared at each other. This seemed to be a thing we did now. I wasn’t opposed to it, but we wouldn’t get any work done standing in the doorway.

“So, you ready to get down to it?” I laughed as I rubbed my palms together.

“Hmm? Oh, yes. Sorry. I’m doing it again. Come in.” He stepped to the side and waved me into the house. “I’m not sure where you want to start. Adrian sent you some pages?”

“Yup,” I nodded. “Where do you want me?”

His eyebrow arched as his gaze slowly drifted lower. “Inside or outside?”

Oh God, he kept dropping the bait. Be good, Chase, don’t pick it up.

“Where does the magic happen?”

Let’s see how he likes it.

His eyes drifted down the hallway toward what I assumed led to his bedroom.

Not that kind of magic, sweetheart.

“Um, uh. Outside?” he stuttered, looking away from me and scratching his head.

“Exhibitionist, nice,” I teased.

A nervous laugh escaped him before he scratched the back of his neck again, clearing his throat. “It’s nice out. I usually sit down in the lounger at the firepit.”

“Cozy. Lead the way.” I gestured for him to go ahead of me. Mostly so I could take in the scenery provided by his snug pants. If he could stare at me, I wasn’t about to deny myself the same.

He stopped to put on some shoes and grabbed his laptop and a folder full of papers off the table.

I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled as I followed him. I could see why he loved being out here.

“Um, there’s only one seat down here. Do you want me to grab a chair off the patio, or...?”

“I’m a big girl. I can share,” I assured him. “Are you good at sharing, Evan?”

A quick nod was all I got before he walked over and set his laptop down on the edge of the unlit firepit.

“Where would you like to begin?”

“I don’t know. Do you want to explain to me how it all happens?” His voice was sharper today, more nervous. This really took him out of his comfort zone.

“Well...when a boy and a girl decide the other one is attractive, they take off all their clothes, but not always all of them. And sometimes it’s a boy and a boy, or a girl and a girl, or multiple people, and then...”

“Stop,” he looked up at me with mild panic, waving his hand. “No. Geez. I know how that works.”

“Which scene do you want to start with? Your writing process is probably different than mine, so what works for me may not be useful for you.” I decided that maybe I’d give him a little slack, although I loved teasing him, especially as he was so jumpy.

“The scene with the detective is the pivotal point in their relationship, but it’s toward the middle of the book.”

“So, start there?” I asked quietly, watching his face for any indication of where he wanted to go.

“That one has more emotions involved. The ones at the beginning of the book are with her...” he trailed off, his cheeks reddening a little.

“Clients? Johns? Hole fillers?” I bit my bottom lip, waiting for the blush to go nuclear.

There it is.

“Clients. We can call them clients.” He was fighting not to laugh, but I could tell he wanted to. Hopefully my bawdy attempts at humor would get him to relax.

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