I look around the door, see him, and think, Oh, come on. I know it’s him, but … dear God …
His back is spectacular. I don’t know all the names of the muscles, but every one of them seems to work in perfect unity, defined, very … very defined. From his narrow waist to his insanely structured shoulders, he’s ripped.
He bends over, hands on his knees, and I watch his already broad back expand and contract as he inhales and exhales, obviously trying to catch his breath. If I were an ass girl, his ass … seriously.
He squats down, inhales, and then grunts as he lifts one of those things with big weights on either end high above his head, kicking one of his legs out, and then squats.
I should back out and let the door close, and as I do just that, I hear him chuckle then the barbell weight thingy hit the floor.
“Savvy, that you? Or do we have an intruder?”
Hiding behind the door, my back pressed against it, I answer, “Just me. Didn’t know you were busy. I’ll be up there, somewhere, trying to find a phonebook and a pho—”
I fall back as he obviously opens the door, and he catches me.
“Great,” he huffs as he lifts me up and rights me on my feet, effortlessly. “I find one girl who’s dope, and now she’s getting all—”
I turn around and shove him, jokingly. My hand hits abs that are even more defined than his back, and I quickly pull it away.
“Hurt your hand?” he asks, and then his man boobs begin to pop, one then the other.
“Oh my God, you’re so—”
“So what, Savvy?” he asks in a playful manner.
“I don’t know,” I say, hugging the dirty clothes tight against my body.
“Look, I’ve admitted I think you’re fun to look at. You could do the same, or you could just stand there, turning red and making this awkward.”
I look up at him quickly. “Fine. I’m worried about you.”
“Yeah?” he asks, clearly amused.
“Yeah, at some point, you’re going to have to decide if this is all worth it.”
He waves his hand in front of himself. “I think it’s worth it.”
“Yeah, well, when you come asking for me to help find your neck, I’m going to say I told you so.”
He laughs, and I have to bite my bottom lip to stop myself from smiling.
“It’s shoulder day.”
“Obviously.” I step around him, needing some space, still feeling his hand splayed across my belly.
“Big plans today, Savvy Sutton. Had to work out before you and I hit the kitchen and bust out some Christmas cookies.”
“What?” I ask, trying not to get overly excited.
“The ’rents won’t be home in time to make them, and I’m not planning to disappoint Santa this year.”
“Oh, please, I’m thinking, when you fucked Chloe, you hit the naughty list, and I’m gonna bet it wasn’t the first time this year.”
“You ever gonna forgive me for banging your roommate?” he asks, walking over to the weights, lifting them and putting them on a rack.
“You don’t need my forgiveness, little dude. That’s between you and Santa.”
“Little dude?” he asks, his eyebrow arched as he flexes his man boobs and makes them bounce again.
“Educated guess, using the equation drawn up by scholars all over when trying to figure out why men like to pick things up and put them down.” I hold up my pinky.
“You got three—”
“What?” I ask as he steps toward me and I step back.
“Two …”
I plant my hands on my hips. “And what are you gonna do?”
“You better run.” He narrows his eyes. “One.”
Squealing like a little kid being chased by the neighbor’s dog, I run, and I run hard. Right before I hit the bottom of the stairs, he grabs me, tosses me around like a rag doll, and runs up the stairs.
“Oh my God, you’re all nasty!” I yell. “Sweaty and nasty!”
Laughing, he pulls me up and sets my ass on something hard.
“I told you to run,” he says as he steps back, smiling.
“What is wrong with you?” I ask, wiping the pretend sweat off my body. “Ew, you got me all nasty.”
He plants his hand over his chest, above his heart. “Forgive me?”
I shrug and pretend to ponder the thought as he looks down then smirks.
Only then do I realize I’m swinging my feet, like some smitten girly girl.
I push myself off the kitchen countertop. “I really need to get my van. Marcy’s probably worried I’m back in the woods, lost somewhere, and she’ll have to work more eighty-hour weeks.”
“I’m going to shower,” he says, turning around. “Your ride’s here, parked in the garage. Battery was dead, and it needed oil.”
“What?!”
He doesn’t stop, taking the stairs two at a time. “Do me a favor and look in the cabinets under the island for a recipe book. Cover looks handmade.” His voice fades slightly as he walks past the opening and down the hallway. “Says Forever Steel Christmas.”
Unbelievable.
* * *
Opening cupboard after cupboard, each organized perfectly and nothing falling out onto the floor, like all my homes from my last life, I laugh out loud for even thinking it. It’s like comparing diamonds to dildos, and that thought makes me snort.
“Savvy, you okay down there?” Patrick calls from somewhere.
“I’m just peachy.” Actually pervy, I correct myself.
“It’s always the last cupboard.”
He startles me.
Still crouching, I turn and look up. “Don’t be a creeper.”
When my ankle turns the wrong way, and I start to fall back into the cupboard, I do what any sensible person would do—I grab something to steady me. That something happens to be gray material—his sweats. When they start to come down, I let go.
“Jesus, Savvy.” He laughs as he once again hefts me up. “Not sure what the hell has you off balance.” He laughs as I slap at his hands then sidestep. “You’re either falling for
