Page 72 of Never Date A Player
Tyler’s? How the hell…? He’s sneaking laundry into our basket? Mooch!
I stand on one leg and pull the boxers over my panties. Nothing happened last night—I was too distraught to talk or do anything more than cuddle—but we both stripped to our underwear before crawling under the covers.
The boxers slip down my hips, nearly falling off, before I roll and tuck them in place.
“Is it so bad that I’m here?” Lewis whispers, pulling on jeans.
More pounding on the door. “Gen, I’m getting worried. Open up.”
“Coming!” I call and walk around the end of the bed, squeezing past Lewis, who’s pulling his arms through a T-shirt. He grabs my waist before I can pass, trailing his fingers along the exposed skin between my sweatshirt and boxers. I shiver.
“Sorry.” He grins unabashedly, then shrugs. “Not really.”
“You are much naughtier than you first let on.”
He leans down and kisses my lips. “Only with you.”
I run my palm over the bulge forming in his jeans. That’s right. Two can play this game.
He growls low in his throat and jerks me close.
I slap his hands away—“Not now, not now!”—and open the bedroom door.
Cali is standing in her bikini top and flannel pajama pants, her gaze sliding from me to Lewis. Her eyes go comically wide, her lips pressing together as if she’s cutting off a vocal reaction. She blinks at me and walks toward the kitchen.
Lewis grabs his wallet from the nightstand. “Think I’ll let you deal with this.” He looks down at his phone and frowns.
I throw his earlier question at him. “Problem?”
He rubs his chin roughly. “Maybe.”
“What—”
“Gen,” Cali singsongs from the vicinity of the kitchen. “You coming out?”
Lewis pockets the phone. “Call me after you tell her.” He grins, but it’s shallow, as if the text message he glimpsed really bothered him. He wraps his arms around my waist and hugs me tight. “Let me know how badly she grills you.”
“You could stay, you know.”
He pecks me on the forehead and lets me go, striding out the front door. “Nope, this one’s on you.” He glances back on his way to the car. “Should have told her,” he says over his shoulder.
Dammit. He’s right. “You’re no help,” I call, and he chuckles.
I shut the front door and join Cali and Tyler at the dining table. Tyler’s eyes dart to the front window, his gaze curious.
Cali sips from the Sexy Bitch mug she monopolizes. “So, you’re shacking up with Lewis?”
Leave it to Cali to skip to the damning part. “Yeahhh, well, you know how I said Lewis and I were just friends? Things changed right before you landed in the hospital. I was going to tell you, but with everything going on, the news got lost in the shuffle.”
Cali sets down her mug. “Gen, I don’t care about that. This week has been insane to say the least. I know I said I wouldn’t interfere, it’s just—that girl that hangs all over him; are you sure it’s not going to be a problem for you guys?”
“I don’t know. But he’s pretty amazing, Cali.”
She looks at Tyler, seeking an ally.
Tyler shrugs. “You’re happy?”
Tears well behind my eyes, because when asked that question, I don’t think about Lewis, I think about last night and the man I met. “I’ve never been this happy with a guy before.” And that’s the truth. If it weren’t for my baby-daddy issues.
