I lick my fingers before hugging my knees to my chest. “Yes. My dad loves me, and if he loves you too, that’s pretty much all I could ever ask for.”
“Well”—Flynn chuckles—“he didn’t declare his love to me yet.”
I twist my lips. “But you’re working on it. Right?”
He kneels in front of me, pulling my legs away from my chest.
“I said you’re sweaty.”
He shrugs off his shirt.
“Stop …” I giggle.
Flynn takes my hands and presses them to his cheeks, and I instinctively brush my thumb over his lip where he brushes mine.
“Your dad is concerned that I might have dreams that don’t align with yours.”
My smile fades.
Leaning in, his lips stop short of touching mine. “I didn’t tell him I only dream of you,” he whispers.
His words resurrect my grin. “Let’s go dirty up my sheets,” I say before biting his lower lip.
He grins, pulling away. “They’re already dirty, but yes, I’ll let you lick my naked, sweaty body in a minute.”
I roll my eyes.
“I need to go back to Minneapolis next week, just for a few days. Monroe is getting married. It’s just a small ceremony in a park, but I’m the best man. And I need to get the rest of my belongings from the Rawlings’ house. And I want to say goodbye to my old boss.”
I nod slowly. “You have some loose ends to tie up.”
“Yeah.”
“Is that it?” I rub my lips together.
“Uh, yep. Pretty much.”
“Okay,” I say, squeezing past him to stand and head back into the bedroom.
“Where you going?” he asks.
“I’m going to swim laps.”
“Thought we were getting back in bed.”
“I changed my mind.” I grab my swimsuit from the closet.
Flynn stands in the doorway. “What am I missing?”
“Nothing,” I brush past him toward the bathroom.
He grabs my wrist to stop me. “No. We’re not doing this. At least not now. Not until I get better at it.”
I give him a dead stare. “Better at what?”
“Games. I used to watch Monroe and Naomi play these …” He bobs his head as though he’s searching for the right words. “Head games. She’d get upset with him and act like you’re acting.”
“How am I acting?”
