Page 76 of Accidentally Amy

“We should probably stop,” she said, panting, sounding likesomeone absolutely not interested in stopping. “Before we get arrested.”

“I just. Want,” I started,needingher to finish, and then—like a sex goddess—she gave me exactly what I’d been waiting for. All ten of her fingernails pressed into my shoulders as her entire body tightened and flexed, making me growl out, “Fucking thank you holy shit,” before following her lead.

•••

“He totally knew,” Izzy said, laughing beside me in the hallway as I pulled out my keys.

“Of coursehe knew,” I replied, relieved she was able to laugh at the fact that security had opened the elevator doors a mere three seconds after we got our clothes readjusted. I slid my key into the dead bolt and said, “I knowIcouldn’t stop grinning like a dumbass, which made the elevator-stuck scenario pretty tough to believe.”

“Yeah, you suck at lying,” she said, giggling.

“Totally do,” I agreed, turning the lock.

She grinned up at me with maximum nose crinkle, and I knew I loved her. It didn’t make a damn bit of sense, but I loved her enough that it terrified me.

It was total lunacy.

It was way too soon to feel that much—impossible to love her already—but I knew it with absolute certainty.

“By the way, Mr. Chest,” she said, giving me a total smart-ass smile that made me want to pick her up and throw her over my shoulder. “Have I told you how happy I am that you’re no longer the boss of me?”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Izzy

I scratched Goodyear’s head and watched Blake freak out.

Technically he was just standing beside me in the living room, holding his cat after injecting it with insulin. But he kept clenching his jaw and pulling at his shirt collar, and he hadn’t given me shit since we’d walked in.

In fact, he’d been incredibly polite to me.

“Do you want something to drink?” he’d asked. And then he followed it with “Let me know if you change your mind.”

What the hell did that even mean? It was totally freaking me out. Obviously, he was regretting our impetuous elevator liaison and trying to think of a gentle way to tell me that he was not at all interested in a sleepover.

“Y’know what?” he said, barely looking at me as he moved the cat out of my arm’s reach and onto the floor. “This shirt is driving me crazy. Bad detergent or something. I’m going to go change.”

“Okay,” I said, narrowing my eyes and watching as he nearly ran to his bedroom.

I literally felt queasy as I wondered what exactly was up with him. Did he not enjoy the elevator sex? Was I a bad elevator lay? Did he not respect me now? (If that was the case, screw him, but still—ouch.)

Was he nervous I was looking for a relationship?

I started pacing, and as I walked toward the big windows with the gorgeous view, I realized that it mattered too much to me. The why of his strange behavior felt like everything at once, like the world would end if he remained aloof and distant.

Dear God, I cared way too much about what he thought.No, no, no. Cared way too much and also felt mildly panicked at the thought of screwing things up with him.

Wait—was I in love with him?

Impossible.

I shook my head and muttered, “Nope,” into the empty living room. “More than friends” was light-years away from “in love,” and I was just getting confused because I hadn’t been “more than friends” with anybody in, like, an eternity.

I hadn’t known him long enough to know if he was worthy of sharing my favorite banana bread, much less my heart.

Nope. I was freaking out because he was the hottest person I’d ever been “more than friends” with, and that was it.

Just be cool, moron, and be casual.

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