Page 53 of The One I Need
“Ow,” I say. Though it didn’t really hurt.
“Oh, stop. I barely touched you,” she says. “Back to the subject. The bed is plenty big. I think that we are adult enough to be able to share a bed without needing to build your pillow fort.”
“Speak for yourself. I always take the opportunity to build a pillow fort.”
“You’re ridiculous,” she says, yawning between bites.
“You’re going to fall asleep in your salad.”
“No, I’m not,” she says while yawning.
“Okay, then,” I say, setting down my now empty plate. “I’m going to go get ready for bed. Twenty bucks you’re asleep when I get back.”
She gives me a thumbs-up while yawning. “You’re on.”
I grab the T-shirt and pajama pants I pulled from my suitcase earlier and head to the bathroom. I could make this whole process five minutes—all I need to do is change, brush my teeth, and take out my contacts. But I know she’s going to fall asleep, and while I’d never collect on the bet, I know she’s tired. And the quicker I go back out there, the more she’ll fight it.
She’s a stubborn one. But that’s what makes Izzy Izzy. She’s like no one I’ve ever met.
On one hand, she’s fierce in a way that is damn impressive. Sometimes a little bit scary, though I know it’s just a front. She’s smart and witty. Funny with a dry, sarcastic humor. That’s the part of her that she lets be seen to the world.
Then there are the parts I’m now getting to see when it’s just the two of us. Softer. More relaxed. Like she can let her guard down and not have to keep putting up this impenetrable front that she insists on maintaining.
The one who is currently asleep on the couch, plate still in hand.
I smile as I walk over to the bed, bringing the covers down. I have to hold in a chuckle when I hear a slight snore from her. I gently take the plate from her hand, which makes her blink her eyes open slowly.
“Shhh,” I say, scooping her under her legs and behind her back. “Let’s go to bed.”
In the most un-Izzy move I think I’ve encountered, she doesn’t argue with me. Instead, she brings her arms around my neck, placing her head against my chest as I carry her the few steps it takes to get to the bed. I slowly lower her onto the mattress and bring the covers up to her chest before leaning down to place a gentle kiss on her forehead.
“You owe me twenty dollars.”
She doesn’t hear my whisper, which is fine. I’d never make her pay. Nope, seeing her like this is the best payment there is.
Chapter18
Izzy
Jesus tap dancing Christ…
Oliver Price in dress pants and a button down is fucking sex on a stick. And I can’t stop staring at him.
This isn’t the first time this weekend I’ve had to remind myself that Oliver is not on my Vegas to-do list. One was last night when I could feel his chest under me as he carried me to bed. Another was this morning when I woke up, and even though I know he didn’t mean anything by it, his arm still ended up lazily draped over my waist.
I selfishly didn’t move it for a few minutes.
I thought the most tempting time was this afternoon when Hazel and I found him and Knox lounging on the pool deck. Yes, I’ve seen Oliver shirtless. I’ve touched it, licked it, and held onto it for dear life. But there was something about him, laying in the sun in his swim trunks and skin glistening, that made me immediately need a cold drink to cool down.
But none of those instances compare to right now. Watching Oliver button his crisp white shirt and rolling his sleeves is better than porn. I don’t know what it is about watching a man getting dressed, especially if they throw on some cologne, but it is one of the sexiest things he can do.
“Are you staring at me?”
“No. Of course not.”
“Liar,” he says with a wink. “It’s okay, though. I know I’m irresistible.”
If he only knew…
