Page 30 of Flirting with Mr. Serious

From inside the bathroom, the light flicked off, and Mike came into view a moment later in black cutoff sweats, hitting right above his knees. He’d worked late, until seven, but still insisted they watchEclipse. “Did I miss anything important? Did he sparkle again? Finally get in her pants?”

“Just the credits.” When she chucked a pizza roll at him, he caught it and tossed it into his mouth, before raising anis that all you got?brow.

Sam pointed her index finger at him. “That’s your last one. Your mom specifically said she made these for me.”

“Who do you think asked her to get them?” He stretched out on what had become his side of the bed—the left—and handed her a peach iced tea. Once he found out it was her favorite, he’d stocked up on a bunch. And now, asking his mom to get her pizza rolls? When he caught her staring at him, he tipped his head. “What?”

“You’re sweet. You know that?”

He snagged another pizza roll, deliberately biting into it. “I’ve been called lots of things, but never sweet.”

“You’re sweet to me.”

“Just watch the movie, spider monkey.”

She stuffed the last of the rolls into her mouth before settling back against the pillows. When Mike had suggested watching the entireTwilightseries, she assumed it was an excuse to get her in his bed, yet to her amazement, he actuallywatchedthem. It might have been the absolute delight on Mrs. Ewing’s face when Sam showed up at her house again three days ago, but aside from a few quick pecks, he hadn’t even attempted to make a move. And the crazy thing was, Sam didn’t care.

Normally, “movie nights” were code for “take your pants off.” She didn’t avoid spending time outside of bed with Eli or any other guy who was her fling of the week or month, but she didn’t seek it out either. And she certainly wouldn’t have ever let them know about herTwilightfandom.

Yet, here she was with Mike, allowing him to witness her giddy nerd come out as she compared and contrasted the books and movies, and laughed along as she did some impressions, which were—in opposition to what Mike said—spot-on. After they had watched the first movie, she explained to him how she’d found the books in high school when she was going through a tough time. They had made her happy, and she’d glommed on to them and then the movies. Instead of judging her, like some “academics” tended to do when they found out she enjoyed them, he’d simply said, “Good for you.”

“I still don’t get the sparkling,” Mike said after a while. “Vampires are supposed to be scary. What’s so scary about looking like a disco ball?”

“Didn’t you listen to Edward’s whole spiel in the first movie?” Sam elbowed him. “They can be very scary, but they’re beautiful to attract their prey.”

“But why sparkle?” He fluttered his fingers as if his own skin were glittering. “They haven’t addressed it. Since they don’t show it to humans, it’s not about hunting, so there’s no point. I’d think it’d be a dangerous disadvantage. They’re giving away their position.”

“Careful. Your military is showing.”

He turned, a barely there curl to his lips, but Sam had become somewhat of an expert in his smiles. This was the reluctant one. The one that was hiding a secret. “I would make an excellent vampire army.”

“Really?” She tucked into his side. “I thought you’d play for the wolves.”

“Oh yeah, one hundred percent.” He waved his hand toward the television, where the wolves were currently running. “But I think I could make a better leader for the vamps than Jasper. I mean…” He tossed her a look. “Does everybody ignore the fact that he fought for the Confederacy?”

Sam sucked air through her teeth. “Yeah, but look, this part’s important, so pay attention.”

“Okay.” He shifted his arm behind her head, and all she could smell was his forest-scented soap. All she could see was the rise and fall of his chest when he breathed. All she could feel was the warmth of his skin. So much for paying attention.

“Oh, come on,” he said suddenly, dragging her out of her haze. “You don’t think it’s gross that he’s one hundred years old and is trying to get in her pants?”

She blinked up at him, a bit confused because she’d been off in space with Mike’s fingertips lazily tracing her upper arm. “I, um…technically, she’s the one who’s trying to get in his pants.”

“None of this makes any sense to me.” For someone who was supposedly putting up with these movies for her, he certainly had a lot to say about them. “He’s old, he’s controlling, he’s creepy and stares at her while she sleeps. Why’s she so attracted to him?”

“It’s not creepy,” she argued weakly. When he slanted his eyes to her, she gave in with a laugh. “Okay, so maybe this doesn’t hold up well, but still… He wants to protect her.”

Mike shifted his head on the pillow so they could see each other eye to eye, combing his fingers through her hair, brushing her scalp. “That’s what you think is hot? Protection?”

She dropped her eyes to his left arm draped across his torso. He was completely solid, pure muscle from head to toe, but nowhere did it seem more obvious than his arms, from his huge bicep to the veins and tendons running thick along his forearm. The tattoos made it all the more impressive. But her favorite part of all of him was his hands.

Hands that could protect her. Fingertips rough and palms callused, his hands were used to hard work. And nothing made her feel safer than having them on her.

She raised her attention from his worn T-shirt to his shoulder, which she often resisted laying her head on, and up his neck to his face, rugged and worn from experiences she knew still haunted him. He looked older than his thirty years, but when he grinned at her, it was with pure, boyish enthusiasm.

“Tell me,” he said. “I want to know what turns you on.”

“Tattoos,” she said, and he rotated his arm back and forth, casually inspecting it before resting it back down.

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