Page 65 of Holly Freakin' Hughes

Ididn’t intend to let my eyes linger, but I found it impossible not to stare athis tattooed flexing muscles. Men looking like that belonged in the pages ofmagazines or on TV, and not on my puny little twin-sized bed after spending thenight holding my hair back.

Whatthe hell is he doing with me?

Brandonlooked up to catch my gaze. The corner of his mouth twitched. “What?”

Ishook my head, diverting my eyes to the TV on the dresser. “N-nothing,” Istammered, overcome by a rush between my legs.

“Oh,come on. Now you’re just watching me in the reflection of the TV,” he statedwith a chuckle before standing from the bed, elongating his torso and giving mea good look at his toned stomach before turning to showcase the mural thatencompassed his back, leaving me breathless.

Hewas teasing me,I acknowledged, as he purposely flexed the muscles alonghis arms and down his spine before pulling the shirt down, and I couldn’t say Iminded all that much.

Withit resting comfortably snug over the contours of his arms and chest, hestraightened the plaid flannel of his pants before glancing in the floor-lengthmirror hanging next to the door and ran his fingers through the disarray of hishair. He glanced over at me with an effortless sexiness that sent a wave ofheat over my body.

“DoI look like we had sex last night?”

Ifmy mouth hadn’t been dry before, it was then and my jaw dropped open at thethought of sleeping with him and forgetting about it. “We, um … What?”

Brandonshook his head and chuckled. “Holly, I’m kidding.”

“Wedidn’thave sex?” I confirmed, simultaneously disappointed and relieved.I’d want to remember if I had seen him naked.

Heshook his head with a little crooked smile. “Being puked on and sleeping betterthan I have in years was the extent to our intimacy last night.” I breathed asigh of relief as I sat on the edge of the bed.

“Now,where do you keep your coffee?” I gave him instructions, navigating him throughthe kitchen, and he stopped me when I told him Liz owned a Keurig. “Say nomore,” he said, bending to kiss me on the forehead. “I’m married to my Keurig.I know my way around one better than I know my way around a woman’s body.”

“I’mnot sure that’s something I’d brag about.”

Hislips pursed and his eyes narrowed. “Yeah, maybe not.”

Withthat, he headed out of my room with the purpose of retrieving coffee, while Icrawled back up to my pillows, burying my nose in the one that had supportedBrandon through the night. Tom Ford’s TobaccoVanillefloated through my senses as I closed my eyes, protecting myself from the painof my hangover that had since dulled with the thrill of seeing him half-naked.I listened as he opened cabinet doors, placed a pair of mugs down on thecountertop, and got the Keurig fired up while mumbling his way through theprocess, saying things I couldn’t hear, but he made me smile nonetheless.

Camillenuzzled against my hand, coaxing me to give her a good scratch behind the earswhile I contemplated what was unfolding. It had only been a matter of timebefore I was buckling under my feelings for him, but whether he allowed himselfto succumb to the same fate was a whole other story. It was ridiculous andwonderful, I thought with a smile, and I grabbed my cell phone and found Ben’snumber to let him down easy.

“HeyHolly,” he said in a somber voice, immediately setting the tone for the talk heseemed to already predict. “Happy New Year.”

“Yeah,you too. How was your chili?”

“Um,it was good. The rice was a little overdone, but you know … It was okay.” Hepaused, a gust of breath hitting the phone’s receiver. “I ended up fallingasleep before midnight. There just wasn’t a point to staying awake.”

“Yeah,I didn’t watch the ball either. I, uh, had a lot to drink last night.” I triedto remember just how much, but the exact figures were escaping me and I figuredit was better to just be grateful I didn’t suffer from alcohol poisoning.

“So,uh, my friend slept over last night,” I said abruptly. Why I thought this wasthe best way to lead into the conversation, I have no idea.

“Oh… Cool,” Ben said with the slightest bit of suspicion.

Istood up from the bed and paced to the dresser and back again. “Aguyfriend,” I said in a quiet voice, hardly believing it myself.

Therewas a heavy awkward silence before Ben finally said, “I see.”

“Nothinghappened,” I blurted out, “but I don’t think I would have stopped it if it had.I know that sounds terrible, but I, um …”

Tomy surprise, Ben laughed. Not a little bitter chuckle or a sarcastic snicker,but a real knee-slapping belly laugh. I stared at my reflection in the mirror,my expression perfectly matching my thoughts.

Whatthe fuck?

“Ohmy God,” he finally breathed, attempting to catch his breath between gigglefits. “Holly, I’ve been thinking about breaking up with you for a couple weeksnow.”

“Butthe necklace …” I thought about the sparkling little garnet sitting in a box onmy dresser. “And … last night …”

---