Page 4 of Rematch
“I’m a Virgo. Um…the lights are sort of hot.” The sudden heat she felt probably had fuck-all to do with the Christmas lights wrapped around his chest, but she wasn’t going to say that aloud.
“Oh shit.” He reached into the pocket of his jeans and turned them off. “Sorry about that. Better?”
Nope.
Not even a little. Which confirmed what she thought.
It wasn’t the lights making her hot. It was the man.
True to his word, he began to unwrap her hair, taking care not to pull it as he did so. “Damn, when you get stuck, you get stuck.”
Chelsea giggled, aware he probably had his work cut out for him. “I have ridiculously thick, curly hair. I’m also long overdue for a haircut.”
“Seems a shame to cut it off, but I’ve always been a sucker for a pretty woman with long hair. What do you do for a living, Joy?”
“Joy?”
He pointed to her sweater.
Ah. Two could play that game. “Very funny, BFG.”
Now it was his turn to be confused, until she said, “Big friendly giant. Roald Dahl. It was one of my favorite books when I was younger.”
He laughed loudly. “BFG. Hey, I like that. So, seriously, what brings you to the party?” he asked again. “Please tell me you’re not here with a guy. My heart couldn’t take it.”
“You’re incorrigible,” she said, though his playful flirting amused, and even flattered her.
He continued to free her hair from the lights as they talked. She didn’t think that much had gotten wrapped up, which meant he was taking his time, untangling it a strand at a time to keep her close. Not that she was complaining.
“That’s not an answer,” he murmured, reminding her of his question. “Put me out of my misery.”
“I came with my friend, Al…lyson.”
He chuckled at her well-placed pause.
“She scored a couple of free tickets from a friend of a friend. How about you? Here with a girlfriend?”
“Oh, sweetheart. You have no idea how much I love the jealous type.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I’m not jealous. Just making sure no one is waiting in the wings to kick my ass for…” She waved her hand toward where she was still plastered to his chest.
“I’m here stag, so I’m all yours for the night.”
“I wasn’t looking for a date. Just freedom.” She tried to tug her head loose, though she wasn’t exactly hoping he would hurry.
BFG raised his hands, palms up. “If that’s true, then I’m going to have to stop here in case you run away the second you’re free.”
“Keep working,” she said, trying to infuse some level of warning in her tone. She failed completely. Since when did she sound so breathy and flirty and feminine?
“Let me buy you a drink and I will.”
“It’s an open bar,” she joked, as he unwrapped another strand. “Wine and beer were included in the ticket price.”
He bopped the tip of her nose. “Even better.”
She rolled her eyes, but mercifully, he kept unwinding her hair.
“Alright, I think I’m just about…there.”
