Page 83 of Flaunt
She grins. “Your handiwork is appreciated.”
I narrow my eyes.
“Allof your handiwork,” she says, winking. “You’re quite impressive, Sparkles.”
I groan. “Not you too.”
She pushes an elbow into my stomach. I flex at the last moment to ensure I continue making a good impression. “Yeah, but at least mine doesn’t refer to glitter.”
“You can sparkle me anytime.”
She snickers and follows me into the hallway. I start toward my bedroom but notice she doesn’t follow me. When I stop in the doorway and look over my shoulder, my stomach tenses.
Her bottom lip is between her teeth. Her eyes are filled with hesitation.
“What are you doing?” I ask her. Although I know what she’s doing.
“I want sex, but not the other crap that goes along with it. I just don’t have the stomach for it.”
“Come on,” I say, going into my room.
“I’ll see you later.”
I poke my head around the corner. She hasn’t moved, which tells me she wants to come. She’s just nervous.
“Yeah, in like the three seconds it’s going to take you to get in here,” I say.
I rifle through my dresser for a clean pair of shorts.
“My pajamas are in my room,” she says. “I need something to put on.”
I rip a shirt out of a stack—ignoring the ones that I got from Jess the night he and Pippa were apart—and take it to the hallway. I toss it at her.
She catches it, holding it in her hands like it’s a bomb. “What’s this?”
“A shirt.”
“For what?”
I roll my eyes. “For you to sleep in.”
She tries not to smile. Luckily for her, the towel on her head wobbles, and it hides her face long enough for her to wipe the grin off her cheeks.
Be you. I have learned in my life that when you’re unapologetically you, you attract all the things meant to come your way. It works. I promise.
Okay …what would I do normally?
I sigh. Here’s the problem.There is no normal. I haven’t had a girlfriend in … a while. I fool around here and there, have some fun, but worrying about them finding a shirt to hang in? Have I donethatbefore?
This is Sara, and Iwanther to be comfortable.Happy. So …
“We’re going to have to order dinner out,” I say. “Unless you want to sneak into Jess's. He keeps extra heat-up pizzas in the freezer in the garage. I took the last pepperoni last weekend, so unless they’ve been to the store, we’re probably stuck with sausage and mushroom.”
She laughs. “We can’t keep eating out.”
“Why?”
“It’s expensive, and I’m broke. You know this. Hence, why I’m here.”
