Page 59 of How Jenna Became My Dilemma

Don’t go there. DON’T GO THERE!

Dang. I went there.

Visions of Cody shirtless with his well-defined hip muscles roll through my head, like a kid somersaulting down a steep hill. And in that vision, he pins me with his smoldering blue eyes while whispering, “I think you’re a beautiful woman, and I’m attracted to you too.”

What the heck, Jenna!

My thoughts sound like a bodice-ripping romance novel. Starting off this brunch in the right headspace, are we?

I point at myself in the mirror. “You will get your shiz together right now if it kills you. None of this oh-he’s-so-handsome-how-can-I-resist-him crap. You’re in charge.” I point at myself again in the mirror. “Take control of the situation. Turn it on, and then turn it right back off again. You are more efficient than the Clapper Lights. Clap it on, then clap it off!”

A heavy knock hits the door.

Pointing at the mirror one last time, I shoot a warning glare at myself before greeting him.

I yank the door open. Immediately, my gaze sweeps over his perfectly trimmed beard and broad shoulders, then to his well-worked-out arms and—

Nope!

My mind does a double clap, shutting off that prohibited activity. Checking Cody out is not allowed.

He peeks around me. “Is someone here? I thought I heard talking.”

“Television,” I quickly say, pulling the door shut behind me.

“I don’t have a TV in my room.”

Nice, Jenna. You don’t have a TV either.

I blow a raspberry, adding a shrug. “I guess that tells you who they consider the more famous celebrity.”

Cody shoots me his amused smile. “I guess so.”

“Should we go?”

He gestures for me to walk first, but as soon as I forge ahead, I feel his hand on my lower back, guiding me.

I pause my steps, glancing over my shoulder. Cody didn’t anticipate the abrupt stop, and by the time he does, he’s so close to me that his chest presses against my back, and the soft touch of his hand has now turned into two hands cupping both sides of my hips in order to steady himself so he doesn’t completely run me over.

The tip of my nose brushes the dark hair on his jaw, and my eyes slowly glance upward to meet his. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I was attempting to walk.”

“I mean, what do you think you’re doing with your hands?” I drop my chin, nodding in the direction of my hips, but the action puts his hot breath and lips grazing over the delicate spot between my eyebrow and the corner of my eye. A blast of delicious sensitivity flames over my skin. I reluctantly lift my head, finding his gaze again.

His eyes skewer me. “I wasn’t aware I couldn’t touch you. There are no rules.”

Rules: the one thing Cody is hung up on and the exact thing Trey said to avoid.

“The contract doesn’t spell out any specifics,” he continues. “So if you don’t want my hands on your body, you’ll have to tell me.” The close proximity of his words sends goosebumps tracking over each dip of my spine.

The more Cody tries to fish rules out of me, the more stubborn I become. Rules are a bad idea, especially with a playboy. They’d become a game to him, something to obliterate and conquer. I’ve seen it in books and movies a hundred times before. You set rules, practically begging yourself to break them. That’s not happening here. We’re not setting lines just to cross them, or coming up with rules just to break them.

No rules. No problems.

“For someone who likes to memorize everything I say, I’m surprised you still need clarification. There are no rules.”

“You seem like the type of person who would normally like rules.”

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