Page 42 of Dirty Roxie
“Then why is it a common curiosity?”
“I’m sure you’re the only person who has ever wondered about arm hair. Most people are really just concerned with pubic hair.”
“Such a coarse word.”
“What? Pubic?”
“Yes.” He shudders.
“As opposed to? What word should I use?”
“Groin. Pelvic.”
“Wow. Way to make yourself sound old.”
“I am old.”
“How old are you?”
“Thirty-five. How old are you?”
“You should never ask a lady her age.”
“Yet, I’m asking you.”
I throw my towel at him. He catches it and turns his back to me.
“Let me get this straight,” I start. “You just implied that I’m not a lady, yet you still treat me like one when I’m naked.”
“I’m being a gentleman.”
I roll my eyes.
“I saw that,” he says.
“No, you didn’t.”
I throw on a sports bra, some boy shorts, and a sundress. “Okay, it’s safe to open your eyes.”
He lowers the towel from his face and comes toward me, sticking his nose in the nape of my neck and breathing in. Making me shiver.
“What are you doing?”
“Seeing if you smell like the towel.”
“And?”
“You smell even better.” He winks as he heads out to the main area. “I’m going to answer the door.”
I hadn’t even heard anyone knocking. Man, this guy makes me go stupid in the head, I swear. And his mood swings are whiplash-inducing. One minute he can’t stand the sight of me naked, the next he’s sniffing at my neck and winking. Jekyll? Hyde?
I grab bottled water, beer, whiskey, and vodka from the minibar and set them out on the coffee table before taking a seat on the sofa. I choose an assortment since I don’t know how this meeting will go, or what the guys will be in the mood for.
I pop the top off a bottle of beer and just take a sip when I look up and see Daria. “Ohmigod!” I jump up to hug her, spilling beer down the front of me. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to confront my dad,” she says, embracing me back.
I pull her off to the side to speak privately. “You okay?” I ask, sobering quickly.
