Page 74 of What About Us
When he straightens up, I immediately see he’s made pizza rolls, mozzarella sticks, and mini corn dogs. Three of my favorite junk foods. I narrow my eyes at him at the same time as I soften. He always knows exactly how to win me over. And it’s usually with food. The bastard. But I kind of love him for it because I’m starving, and gorging myself on junk food sounds divine.
He meets my gaze. “You weren’t home. And I live here. You want me to go outside next time? Give old Mrs. Brewer a show?” The corner of his lips tip up, like he’s fighting a smile, teasing about our eighty-four-year-old neighbor.
I roll my eyes and shoot him a look. “No, of course, I don’t want… Are you serious? Mrs.Brewer?”
He chuckles, pulling the oven mitt off and tossing it down with a shrug of his shoulders. “I thought I was alone. Iwasalone, until you came into my bathroom without knocking.” That cocky smirk falls back into place.
“I didn’t know you were home!” I grumble.
He picks up a pizza roll off the baking tray in front of him, popping it into his mouth. He does the whole open-mouthed chewing, fire-breathing dragon thing that only happens with a freshly cooked pocket of doughfilled with sizzling sauce and melty cheese. He really is fifteen. And so damn cute, I want to punch him.
“It was an accident. It's fine.”
“It’snotfine,” I nearly screech. “It’s the furthest thing from fine. I saw your—” I slide a glance to the stairs, making sure Paige can’t hear, then lower my voice and lean over the counter. Dropping my eyes to the front of his pants, I say, “I saw yourdick.”
He swallows before smirking at me, his flint-colored gaze scorching me from three feet away. “Oh, I’m very aware of what you saw.”
My cheeks heat again and I’m so grateful he can’t see the press of my thighs together under the counter. Why does he have to be so insanely hot?
“This isn’t funny, Huddy.” I groan. “I watched you come.”
His sweeps his tongue out over his bottom lip and lifts his chin. “The real question is: did you like what you saw?” His eyebrows bounce up and down and his grin is smug, and I kind of love it.
“Ugh. You’re unbelievable,” I say, picking up a pizza roll and chucking it at him.
He catches it and tosses it back on the tray with a chuckle, then dusts his hands off. “You didn’t have to look. Why didn’t you leave when you saw me?”
“I couldn’t, ok?” I drop my gaze, embarrassment coloring my cheeks. I justknowmy chest is splotchy as fuck. “I just…couldn’t. But it’s not decent; you shouldn’t do that when I could be home.”
With a panty-dropping smile, he leans way over the counter, inching closer to me. “Oh, that’s really rich.” His voice is low and makes my skin hum in anticipation. “You walk around here in those tiny goddamn shorts that leave abso-fucking-lutelynothingto the imagination. Not to mention those flimsy ass tank tops you sleep in that show every outline of your nipples. But you don’t see me bitching about it.”
I nearly choke onmy spit. I should be offended that he’s looking at me close enough to be checking out my nipples, but I’m not. I’m flattered, and…happy to know he’s thought about my body, my breasts. My heart beats faster. I wonder what else he’s thought about, and it makes me going completely feral over his body less embarrassing. Clearly, there’s attraction between us. I mean, we never would have kissed otherwise.
“First of all, that’s not the same thing.” I steal another glance at the stairs. “You were…touchingyourself,” I say, hating how coy it sounds.
He takes three deliberate steps around the counter, stopping when he reaches me. I have to tip my head back to look at him. I swear my swallow is audible and my breathing sounds so loud. It’s shallow and my chest rises and falls quickly as I stare up at him.
His voice is low and deep when he speaks. “Don’t think for one second that I can’t hear that little, battery-operated buddy you’ve got in your room. Every. Night.”
I gasp, heat flooding my body, but I can’t look away. “You cannot!
He braces a hand on the counter in front of me and one on the back of my stool, leaning in. I can feel his breath on my neck when he replies, “Isofucking can, and all your breathy, little moans, too.”
I feel my face flush with heat again, and I bite down on my lip. His eyes track the movement, his face mere inches from mine. It’s a physical effort to keep from brushing my lips against his as the memory of how they felt on mine comes flooding back. It’s overwhelming how badly I want to feel them on the rest of my body, too.
“Besides, if it bothers you that much, you could always return the favor.” Then, the cocky fucker grins at me.Grins.“Or, maybe you wanna watch again?”
Yes,to both, please.
I roll my eyes to cover up how just his words alone have me so turned on, I can barely think. “You’re such a pervert.”
“Says the girl who watched her best friend jerk off,” he says, tossing me a wink. “And liked it.”
A laugh bubbles up out of me. My face has to be as red as a tomato. The tips of my ears burn. But I can’t deny it. So, I just roll my eyes at him again and get up to leave the kitchen. It’s ridiculous, really. We are literally bickering about when and how we masturbate. Typical us.
When I get to the top of the stairs, he calls out, “I didn’t hear you deny it, Jameson.”
God, I’m screwed.
