Page 103 of The Way We Score

“Sure.”

When she returns, she hands me one, and I look down at her, feeling the humming tension of us being here in this house, all alone.

“I’m not really tired. Want to see what’s on TV?” She passes me, picking up the small remote of the end table. “Mom still has cable, so no telling.”

She sits on the couch, and I lower myself beside her, watching as she cycles through the channels. Finally, she stops on an old police show with Kyra Sedgwick in it.

“Oh, I used to loveThe Closer!” She sets the remote down, settling into my side.

I can’t focus on the show with her beside me, then she shifts again.

“I can’t get comfortable in these jeans.” She stands. “I’m going to change.”

My eyes glide down her body, her full breasts hugged in that sweater, and my dick twitches. “I’d better run back to the house and get some clothes for tomorrow.”

She peeks her head back into the room. “Don’t be gone too long.”

With that, I hustle out the door, jogging quickly to thehouse and doing my best to grab a few things and stuff them into my duffel bag before leaving again. The house is dark, and I expect Dylan and Logan will appreciate having the place to themselves. It reminds me, I need to start looking for my own place, for when Ms. Plum returns. Something with plenty of room for a family.

When I get back, Liv is perched on the couch with a bowl of popcorn in her lap. Her legs are crossed, and she’s in my old cotton jersey and lounge pants. Fuzzy socks are on her feet, and she looks cute as hell with her hair tied to the side in a ponytail.

“You’re wearing my jersey.”

“Every night.” Her slim brow lowers. “That’s not a lot of stuff.”

“I’ll get more tomorrow.” I carry the bag into Ms. Plum’s small room.

Frowning, I look at her single bed and decide on the spot I won’t be sleeping in it. It’s a kind offer, but for whatever reason it feels weird to me. I replace my jeans with the sweatpants I brought and trade out my work shirt for a tee.

When I return, Liv holds out the bowl. “Popcorn?”

Dropping beside her, I exhale. “Nah, I’m good.” Reaching down, I lift her foot into my lap and take off her sock.

“What—” Her protest devolves into a moan when I start to massage her foot.

Not gonna lie, that moan is the sexiest sound I’ve heard in a while. “The book says expectant mothers really like foot massages.”

“Everybody likes foot massages.”

Kyra Sedgwick is walking around a crime scene in a pretty dress and cardigan set taking pictures, and I reach down to lift Liv’s other foot into my lap to repeat the process.

“You’re really good at this.” She smiles. “You don’t tickle or nothing.”

I grin. “Pulp Fiction.”

“You know what they say about foot massages.”

Pressing my lips together, I nod. “I wouldn’t give a guy a foot massage.”

With a quick inhale, she puts the bowl aside and shifts higher on the couch. “What else does the book say about me?”

My eyes slide from her bare foot to her bare ankle, and I slide my fingers around to the back of her calf, gently circling my fingers. “It says a lot of things.”

Her tongue slides out to wet her bottom lip, and her eyes flicker to my hand. The back of her calves is another one of her sensitive spots.

When we saw that episode ofFriendsin high school, I immediately made Liv show me all her erogenous zones. It was hot, and I wanted to make Liv moan that way. We spent the summer finding every place—behind her neck, in the bend of her arm, her lower back, the backs of her shoulders… I loved watching her eyes darken and her nipples peak.

“Some pregnant ladies get really horny.” Her eyes drift to the screen, but my senses tingle at her words. “I wonder what evolutionary purpose that serves. I’m already pregnant.”

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