Page 41 of Breaking the Rules
I did see him naked.
I've had a crush on him since the day he taught me the f-word.
But it's more than that.
I want this guy, the one standing in the kitchen, fixing coffee, laughing about dirty art.
The obnoxious babysitter who's actually trying.
Who is going to stick with that wholeno way am I touching you; you're basically your brother's property; I could never violate that.
"You there?" he asks.
"Yeah."
"Or you fantasizing about Gustave?"
"You memorized the artist's name?"
"I learned shit in high school."
"Yeah, I can see that." I shake my head. "What bullshit."
"Oh?" He brings our mugs of coffee to the counter, places one next to me, the other in front of the seat opposite mine.
"Yeah. Guys get to gawk at beaver. What do women get?"
"You've never seenDavid?"
"I've seen him."
"And?"
"I've seen better."
Hunter shakes his head as he moves into the kitchen to grab cream and sugar. "Better than a statue that's served as an example of the perfect male specimen for centuries?"
"Yeah."
"Better how?" He slides into the seat opposite mine.
"You really want to know?"
"Yeah. If David doesn't do it for you, who does?"
"Don't you think he's a bit… ahem?" I motion to my crotch.
His lips spread into a smile. "Really?"
"Yeah."
"Guy could be a grower."
"Still. It's a statue, not a cast. The artist could have given him a bit more."
"You know men." Hunter chuckles. "They want to look good. Artist probably wanted women looking at David then thinkingdamn, my man is loaded."
"Probably."
