Page 55 of The Fix Up

“God, yes.”

She laughed and rolled her eyes. “The DVD, you goof. If this is going to turn into a phone sex session, I’m hanging up.”

No you’re not,her libido telegraphed.

Still, she felt a little relief when Ben didn’t pursue that line of conversation. Not that she wouldn’t love talking dirty with him. But there was something about the idea of a quiet evening of watching a movie together and snuggling that made her feel warm inside.

Okay,virtualsnuggling. But even that sounded nice.

“Got it all cued up?” Ben asked.

“Hang on. I don’t watch a lot of movies, so it’ll take me a second to get it going.”

She fumbled the DVD out of its case and maneuvered it into the machine, then picked up the remote control. She scampered back to bed and threw the covers back, then burrowed beneath a thick layer of blankets.

“What size bed do you have?” he asked.

“A queen. Why?”

“Just trying to picture it. How about your covers?”

“I have a down-filled comforter with a purple cover on it and this crazy-looking afghan hand-knitted with every color of yarn on the planet.”

“You knit?”

“Nope. I always wished I could, but I don’t have the patience. Maybe someday. My grandma made it.”

“That’s sweet,” he said, his voice low and even. “May I fluff your pillow for you?”

“Why does that sound dirty when you say it?”

“Anything sounds dirty if you say it right.”

“Example?”

“Mastication-induced arousal.”

“What?”

“It’s a term used to describe the beneficial cognitive effects of chewing,” he said. “Or how about antennating?”

“Is that a cross between penetrating and lubricating?”

“Now who’s talking dirty? It’s just the term to describe how insects communicate by touching antennae.”

“That sounds romantic.”

“It kinda does, doesn’t it?” She heard rustling on the other end of the line, and imagined Ben snuggling back into his own nest of blankets. Did he have a bed in his penthouse yet, or was he sleeping on the floor? She hadn’t had a chance to find out the other night, and now didn’t seem like the right time to ask.

“Okay, are you all settled in?”

“Yes,” Holly said, nestling back against her own pile of pillows. “Ready.”

“I’m going to count us down from three. When I say go, hit play.”

“Got it. Are we watching the previews, or skipping them?”

“Which do you prefer?”

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