“I said I’d help you move. You’ve gotta meet me halfway, mate.”
“I packed one box.” He pointed to a cardboard carton shoved in the corner next to his bed.
A shiny, gold trophy poked out the top. “You packed your trophies?”
“Chick magnets. The most important things go first.”
Right. I bet the next things he’d packed were condoms, his thongs, and maybe a stubby cooler.
“I’ve got the boxes under the bed.” Getting on his knees, he dove under the mattress to retrieve a stack of flattened cardboard cartons.
Right. Well, that was a start. “Got a Sharpie?”
“What for?”
“To write on the boxes so you know what’s in them. Haven’t you done this before?”
“Not on my own. That’s why you’re here.”
“Please tell me you’ve got tape.”
“Uh ...”
For fuck’s sake. I turned tail and went looking for a sensible person who would know where to find what we needed. Any other member of this household would’ve fit that description, but there was one in particular who I wanted to see.
Her room was across the hall so I didn’t have to go far. I rapped my knuckles on the wood.
“Come in,” she called out.
Stretched out on the bed with a book in her hand and the stereo playing in the background, she stole my breath. “Hi.” She sat up, crossing her legs, yoga style.
There was a lot of leg showing. A lot of smooth, pale skin exposed by loose cotton shorts. And when she crossed her legs like that, I got a peek at pale pink knickers.
I emptied my lungs and thought of her brother. It was the quickest way to deflate my rising erection. “Hi. Can I ask you something?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Why is your brother so clueless?”
She snorted. “Because he’s had women running around after him his whole life. If we hadn’t done anything to compensate for his lack of initiative, he might actually be a capable human being.”
“I doubt it.”
“Oh, me too.”
“We need some packing tape and a permanent marker. You wouldn’t happen to know where we could find those, would you?”
“Yes. Follow me.” She jumped up, pulling her shorts down at the back before padding off through the house.
She could pull the fabric down all she liked; they’d never cover much more than just below the crease of her cheek. If she bent over, I’d be able to spy the fleshy part of her bum. Damn. My mouth watered, thinking of what it would be like to bend her over. The sway of her hips put me in a trance until we reached the kitchen and she looked over her shoulder. I snapped out of it, raising my eyes and catching her amused grin.
“The junk drawer.” She pulled it open. “It’s like a treasure trove. I found scissors in here when I was a kid and gave myself a God-awful haircut. They took all the sharp things out after that, but we should be able to find tape and a marker.”
“Did they take photos?”
“Yep. And I found them when I was twelve and tore them up. I never did find the negatives though.”
I bet she was still cute.
I stepped up behind her, reaching over her shoulder to retrieve a roll of tape. Her body would fit mine just right. I could tuck her under my chin and cocoon her in my arms. Being this close had my body humming and my mind singularly focused on her.
Andy leaned into me, closing the small space between us with a sigh. Grabbing a thick, black marker, she read the label, “Whiteboard marker,” before tossing it back. After a minute of rifling through the assortment, she found what she wanted. “Here ya go. Anything else you need?” Her question hitched a ride on thin breath.
I dropped a kiss in her hair and hooked an arm around her waist. “Time alone with you.”
“When?” she whispered, eyeing me over her shoulder.
“Tonight?”
“Yes.”
My hand retreated, sliding across her belly to grip her hip. “I’ll pick you up at six.” I imagined my fingers roaming to the hem of her shorts, but it was too soon for that. We’d only just started dating. But damn, in my brain I’d had her in ten different ways already. I needed her to know it wasn’t just a physical attraction for me. This was so much more.
“Okay.” She did a little hop on the balls of her feet, her face beaming.
“Okay.” I spun the roll of tape on my finger, my lip quirked. “Have you got a gas mask hiding somewhere? I could use one of those, too.”
“Sorry, no.”
“Damn. I’ll just have to hold my breath.” Reluctantly, I stepped away, giving her room to move. “I gotta go help trumpet bum, but I’ll see you later.”
“Yep.”
I winked and took the items back to Stewart’s room. He’d piled his clothes onto the bed and was rummaging around in his cupboard for something.
“Looking for a suitcase?”
“A suitcase. Good idea. Why didn’t I think of that?”
“Because it’s a good idea.” I raised my brows, flaring my eyes. “I got tape and a marker pen.” I put the items on his tallboy and grabbed one of the flattened boxes. After folding it into its 3D shape, I ripped off a bit of tape and stuck the bottom together.
“Found it.” He pulled out a bong from the back of the top shelf. “This is going in with the trophies.”
I forgot about the bong. Condoms, thongs, stubbie cooler, trophies—AKA chick magnets—and a bong. “What about your stick mag collection? Found that yet?”
“I’ve got them stashed in my car, all ready to go.”
“Are the bull’s balls in with your trophies?”
He scoffed. “Of course.” Yanking a suitcase from the bottom shelf, he unzipped it and started tossing in his
