Page 23 of Sack

She saw a glimpse of a smile before he hid it. “I meant, it’s not a good idea.”

She was distracted from answering when warmth hit her thigh. She looked down to see her coffee had spilled and was soaking into the material of her jeans.

She leapt from the desk with aneek. Craning her neck, she saw the ass of her jeans was wet, too.

“Let me grab a towel.”

He was gone and back again in under a minute, a roll of paper towels in his hand.

He handed her a few sheets then went to work mopping up the spill on the desk and carpet. The air smelled of vanilla and coffee and she would’ve been sorry she missed out if the course of events leading to the spill hadn’t been so kriffing fantastic. There was still the iced one left. Not her favorite, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

She patted at her jeans with no effect, the towel coming away dry. She squatted instead to help with the carpet. “This is going to stain if we don’t use a little soap and water.”

Their faces were close once more as he looked up, and for a moment, she thought for sure he was going to kiss her again, but instead, he stood.

He looked as if he were about to say something, but then his eyes snagged on her jeans. “I’ll take care of it in a minute. Let’s get you cleaned up first.” He led her upstairs to his bedroom and connecting bath. “I’ll grab a pair of sweats you can change into.”

Ivy had gotten a quick peek at the bathroom on her tour earlier, but waiting for Colt to return, she was able to look her fill. Even with all the marble, it felt warm. She attributed that to the brown and tan color scheme and size—not small, but definitely not large. A walk-in shower encased with frosted glass took up a substantial portion of the space, followed by the two-sink vanity, and a toilet in the corner. All the fixtures were brass, adding to the warmth.

“These will swim on you, but it’s better than wet jeans.”

He handed over a pair of black, jersey sweats with a logo in silver of a scythe encased in a circle. A double meaning perhaps? Not only was his team the Phantoms—with the Grim Reaper being the big daddy Phantom of Death—but maybe it also symbolized how they killed out on the field. Something she’d need to ask him about when she wasn’t standing in wet jeans. “Thanks.”

He backed out of the bathroom, shutting the door. She turned on the water and peeled off her jeans while waiting for it to grow hot. Finding a washcloth under the sink, she wet it, then used it to wash the sticky coffee from her leg. That’s when she discovered the ass of her underwear was wet. Stepping out of those too, she ran them and her jeans under the tap so they wouldn’t stain. Then she stood there wondering what to do with them. The jeans weren’t embarrassing, but she couldn’t leave her panties lying on the counter for him to see them. She stuffed them in the pocket of her jeans. They’d have to dry out later.

Colt was right, his sweats were too big. Not only did the legs extend past her feet, but the elastic waist hung low, barely catching on her hip bones. She searched for the little string that was usually found in the band, but there wasn’t one. She tried rolling the waist, but by the time it was tight enough to stay up, the crotch rode too high and without underwear, it wasnota good look. On to Plan B.

She grabbed a fistful of the waistband, pulled the elastic from her hair and used it to secure the excess material. Not a great look either but an improvement over the camel toe. Now she just had a big lump showing through the side of her t-shirt.

Nothing left for it, she ran her fingers through her hair to detangle and fluff, then opened the bathroom door.

She didn’t expect to find Colt sitting on his bed waiting for her. “Sorry, had I known you were waiting, I would’ve been faster.”

“I thought we should talk.”

She played dumb. “About what?”

“The kiss.”

“Oh, that.” She waved a hand. “Already forgotten.” She didn’t know why he’d kissed her, but she did know after it happened, he’d regretted it. Pity, because she really wanted to do it again. “Platonic business relationship. That was the deal, and I’m a girl of my word.”

His shoulders slumped, and she couldn’t tell if it was from relief or disappointment. She’d never wished for anything more at that moment than the ability to read minds. Where were her latent mutant powers when she needed them?

“I want to apologize.”

“Please don’t. That was the best kiss I’ve ever had and if you apologize, you’ll ruin it.”

A smirk tugged at his lips. “Best kiss?”

Kriff! When would she learn to keep her mouth shut? “You know, upon reflection, I’m gonna downgrade it to second best.”

He raised a brow. “Dethroned already? Who usurped me?”

“Billy Weinstein, seventh grade. Our braces got locked and we were stuck like that for five minutes. Best kiss I ever had.” She folded her arms over her chest for emphasis.

He raised his other brow. “Well, I can see how that would be hard to top.”

She ignored both his sarcasm and his sexy eyebrows. “See? No harm, no foul. We’ll just forget it ever happened.”

---