“If this backfires, I had nothing to do with it. Let that be known now.”
He shrugged and led the way back to the living room.
Jacoby took the offered beer without complaint and pointed to the TV. “Is this The Last of Us?” he asked, referring to the video game I had paused.
“Part two, actually.”
He swung wide eyes my way, complete shock leaving his mouth gaping. “It’s not even out yet. How did you get a copy?”
It never got old.
I shrugged, trying to stave off my smirk, and said, “It’s a perk of my job.”
“What else does being a model get you?”
Crap. It seemed impossible to stay in character around him, which was one of the reasons I tried to stay away from him. It was only a matter of time before I accidentally let the cat out of the bag, and I couldn’t risk that happening.
“Oh, lots of things.” I added a giggle, hoping he wouldn’t notice the horror in my eyes.
Jacoby cracked open his can of beer and settled into the cushion next to me. He was so close I could smell his cologne. Or maybe it was his deodorant. Either way, he smelled delicious. In fact, he smelled so good it was almost distracting.
Well, not almost. It was distracting. So much so that I hadn’t even noticed Dave leave the room. We’d resumed the game, and between trying to concentrate on what I was doing and trying not to sniff my neighbor, I hadn’t realized that we were the only two in the room until I ran out of beer.
I passed the controller to Jacoby while I headed to the kitchen for another round. While I was there, I tried calling Dave, yet he didn’t pick up—no surprise there. I wasn’t sure why he’d left the room; it wasn’t like he was doing us any favors. I mean, Jacoby was under the impression that I was Tiffany, and he was well aware of Tiffany’s engagement to Adam. So I decided to shoot him a quick text to explain.
Me: You’re an idiot. I thought you wanted to hang out with McSexy. Where’d you go?
His response was quick: I’m surprised you even noticed I was gone. I rolled my eyes and gave up. His pouty and childish voice was heard loud and clear in his message.
Jacoby offered me the remote when I returned, but I let him continue to play. There wasn’t a whole lot of talking going on, more like game-play chatter. The kinds of things you’d say even if you were alone. It was just what we gamers did, and it took another gamer to appreciate it.
After a few minutes, we’d reached one of the story scenes—the parts that helped propel the game forward while looking much like a film. I knew I should’ve been paying attention, but I couldn’t stop focusing on my deep inhales. It was the only way I could continue to get whiffs of whatever he wore without coming off like a creep.
One minute, the characters were arguing on the screen. The next, Owen, the male character, grabbed Abby’s braid, and based on the heavy breathing between the two, it was no surprise what happened next. Animated clothes were removed, then Abby was bent over a table with Owen behind her. And yeah, the creators left nothing to the imagination.
My breathing had gone from a slow, steady inhale and quick exhale to panting. Then again, I hadn’t been physical with a man in quite some time, so at least I had an excuse for reacting as though I’d just watched graphic porn. I wasn’t sure what Jacoby’s reason was. All I knew was that he needed to calm down, because his labored breathing was about to push me right over the edge.
The screen faded to black and then moved on to another scene. Meanwhile, Jacoby and I sat completely still, eyes straight ahead, beer cans to our lips. I couldn’t be sure about him, but my thighs were pressed tightly together.
“This is…uh, this is a fun game.” His words were barely audible.
In any other situation, I may have laughed, or at the very least, smiled. But I was entirely too focused on remaining in my seat and keeping my hands to myself. His cologne was now becoming too much for my one-track mind.
It was then that I realized we had somehow scooted closer to one another. I wasn’t sure when this had happened or which one of us had moved. All I knew was I could feel his sleeve brush against me, and when I turned my head to glance at our arms to see just how close we were, he turned his head, too.
I slowly lifted my gaze, catching the sight of his perfect mouth. Of course, that sight caused me to run the tip of my tongue over my bottom lip, and I couldn’t be sure, but I might’ve also moaned. Someone moaned, and for the life of me, I prayed it was on the game. But based on the way the corners of his mouth curled up, it was me.
When my eyes met his, my breathing hitched. There was just something about them that caused a physical reaction in me. They were dark green, nothing overly unique or special. They didn’t light up, shine, twinkle, or any other words that people have used to describe someone’s eye color. They were just deep-emerald orbs that took my breath away.
Then they dropped to what I assumed were my lips. That’s when my breathing really became strenuous. It was like we were trapped in this bubble while the rest of the world operated around us. Half of my brain ran through every sexual position we could do in this room while the other half was in charge of my hands, making sure they didn’t stray into his personal space.
“I, uh…” he mumbled, still staring intently at my mouth. “I think I hear my sister
