Page 27 of Square Deal

“Don’t worry about it,” I said, getting up to grab something to help clean her up. “You’re letting me crash at your place. That’s payment enough.”

She propped herself up on her elbows and watched as Igrabbed a warm washcloth and brought it back, settling between her legs and gently wiping away the mess.

“So that’s it?”

“What’s it?” I asked.

“You just toss around orgasms like a flower girl chucking rose petals and call it a day? Now we’re back to what? Watching TV and acting like that didn’t just happen?” There was a hint of panic in her voice.

I nodded. “Pretty much. You hungry?”

Hannah pinched the bridge of her nose and held up a finger, signaling I needed to give her a minute. Finally, she huffed, “I don’t get it.”

“Get what?” I tossed the washcloth in the hamper and shifted so I was sitting against the headboard.

“How you do it.”

“You want me to teach you how to get yourself off?”

She swatted my arm, but it felt like a bumblebee bouncing off my body. “No, you ass.” She sighed. “I wish I could be that disconnected.”

I tucked a short lock of chocolate brown hair behind her ear and chuckled. “You’re catching feelings for me? I’m honored.”

Hannah rolled her eyes. “Not even close.” She opened her mouth to say something else but hesitated and then clammed up.

“What’s going through your head?” I asked, helping her sit up beside me.

“I wish I was a little more like you,” she said quietly. There were cracks in her mask of perfection.

“Trust me,” I chuckled, throwing my arm around her shoulders. “You don’t want to be me.”

Hannah giggled and rolled the back of her head across my shoulder until she rested my forehead against my neck. “I think we only get along when you’re inside of me.”

I snickered and looked down, my lips a mere breath away from hers. “There could be worse things in life, I guess.”

The power flickered, but neither of us moved.

“You hungry?” she asked.

“If you’re asking if I want to eat you out again, then the answer’s yes.”

She threw her head back and laughed at the ceiling. “Not like that, you perv! I meant do you want to go downstairs and grab a snack?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’ve seen your fridge. There’s way too much kale.”

“Come on,” she said, hopping out of bed and grabbing a robe out of the closet. “I’ll show you where I stash the good stuff.”

I followed her downstairs, adjusting myself to ease the hard-on fighting its way out of my sweats.

Hannah Jane wasn’t kidding. A few minutes later, we were sitting on top of her kitchen island by that ridiculous bowl of lemons, eating cereal I hadn’t tasted since I was a kid.

“So, this is your vice, huh?”

She smiled over her bowl of Reese’s Puffs. “Among other things, yes.”

My Fruity Pebbles had gone from rainbow rice puffs to a mottled hue of grayish-green milk and wilted cereal. Delicious. “I can’t imagine that you have a lot of vices. Cereal is pretty tame.”

She shoved a spoonful into her mouth. Milk dribbled down her chin, and I had to bite back the urge to lick it off her skin. “We weren’t allowed to have sugary cereal as kids, so when I went away to college, I tried every brand I could find.”

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