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Walker: Do I?
Iris: Yeah.
Walker: You wearing panties?
My cheeks flush.
Iris: That was an abrupt subject change.
Walker: Are you?
Iris: Yes.
Walker: What do they look like?
Uh… I glance around the crowded coffee shop. Can I really have this conversation here?
Iris: Purple. There's cotton with lace trim.
Walker: Fuck, you're gonna make me hard.
Iris: You started it.
Walker: Still.
Iris: I'm completely innocent. Just trying to study.
Walker: I'm just getting ready for the gym.
Iris: Wearing…?
Walker: You want a pic?
My tongue slides over my lips.
Iris: Yes, please.
A minute later my cell flashes with a picture message. Walker from his nose to his thighs. He's wearing boxers. Only boxers.
But it's too much.
I want those gone.
I want my thoughts gone.
I want him in my bed, between my legs, groaning my name.
Iris: You're going to kill me.
Walker: Good.
Iris: How are you going to the gym? I can't fathom that. My thighs are murder.
Walker: I get any credit for that?
Iris: Maybe.
Walker: Iris, you wound me.
