Page 57 of Remember Me

I loved tacos.

I was pretty sure I loved him.

He had snuck up on me, this playful-yet-super-smart jock with the wicked sense of humor and abs for days. He made me uncomfortable, but in a good, butterflies kind of way. He refused to let me sit in my nerdy artist corner and cast judgment on the pretty and the shallow, instead proving to me over and over that appearances could be deceptive.

I found myself grateful that he’d looked past mine — casual to the point of careless — taking time to see what was beneath my outer layer. He was everything I hadn’t known I wanted or needed, challenging me to think outside the box of my preconceived ideas, to take a step outside my comfort zone.

So, yeah. Tonight, if all went well, Hayes Ellison would have the privilege of ridding me of my hymen.Tonight is your night, bro.

The thought made me snicker as I turned from the mirror and grabbed my phone and purse.

“What’s so funny?” Remi asked.

“You remember that old movie with the short, round guy…he’s getting himself all fixed up to go out, and keeps singing to himself, ‘tonight is your night, bro’?”

“Twins! Oh, my god, yes! Is tonight the night?” She grabbed my shoulders and shook me. “Are you losing the v-card tonight? This is so exciting!”

“Remi, good grief. Maybe. I’m thinking…maybe. Depends on how good the tacos are.”

“The only taco that matters is your taco. Did you lady-scape?”

I went to the door. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”

Remi followed me out into the hall, calling after me loud enough to have a head or three popping from the open doorways of our floor. “All I heard was blah, blah, blah, I’m a dirty little tramp who’s gonna get de-flowered!”

Shaking my head, I half-ran out of the building.

I was still smiling when I knocked on Hayes’ door. “Hey, Shortie.” He bent to kiss me, grabbing me around the waist and pulling me off the ground and flush against him. I loved the strength that gave him the ability to do so, and ran my hands lightly, greedily, over the muscles in his neck and shoulders. He smelled delicious, like a blend between cumin and his usual leaves and leather aftershave. And he tasted like liquor and bad decisions.

“Umm…” I murmured. “You taste good.”

“I might have had a margarita.” He deepened the kiss, playing with my stud, his hands somehow managing to find their way to my ass and squeeze even as his arms around my waist kept me securely against him. “God, I love your ass.”

I smiled into his mouth. From the street a wolf whistle sounded. “Get a room!”

Laughing back against my face, Hayes backed us into the house and kicked the door shut. He eased me down his length slowly and leaned over me as I leaned back against the door, caging me with his arms on either side of my head. “Hungry?”

“Starving.”

He bowed his head to kiss me lightly once again, and then rested his forehead against mine. “Come on, then. Let’s get you fed, and then I plan on kicking your ass in Scrabble.” Taking my hand, he began pulling me toward the kitchen.

“Scrabble?” My brow furrowed. He wanted to play board games?

He glanced back at me. “Problem?”

The small kitchen was redolent with the smell of tacos and the fainter underlying tang of Cointreau and tequila. I grabbed the margarita Hayes had already prepared for me and sipped appreciatively. “Not at all. It’s just not very…sexy.” I let my eyes, peering at him over the salted rim, say everything I didn’t trust myself to put into words.

“Sexy? Scrabble can be hella sexy.” He handed me a plate. “Eat up. You’re going to need your energy.”

I choked on the margarita. “I am?”

His eyes gleamed with humor. “Brain power takes fuel. If you have a prayer of winning, you’d better gas up.”

“Oh, babe. It’s so on.”

We fixed our plates and carried them up to Hayes’ room, leaving the leftovers for the other guys who were still in the house. I could hear a couple of them in the living room, playing some shoot ‘em up video game and shouting profanities at each other.

Hayes had spread a blanket on the floor and tossed pillows from the bed for comfort. The room was neater than I’d ever seen. I sank down, looking at him in appreciation as he lowered himself to sit next to me. “This is nice,” I told him, taking a bite of my taco. “Our own little picnic paradise.”

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