The doorbell was a welcome distraction from my prowling around the kitchen, eyeing the timer with increasing frustration.
It was entirely possible that Flynn had bland, unflattering clothes in his closet.Whatever they were, though, he’d not worn them on any occasion that I saw him.
Zip-up hoodie, looking so soft I had to think it must be tawny cashmere.Dark blue jeans, that indigo I associated with expensive Japanese denim.Definitely not the sort of stuff we saw at the thrift store, and it left me feeling positively slobbish in my t-shirt and sweatpants.
“You have a cruel habit of leaving me standing on cold doorsteps,” Flynn said, his mouth quirked very nearly into a grin.
I stepped to the side, silent invitation.
“Something smells good,” he observed, kicking off his shoes and walking down the hallway to the kitchen.“Let me guess, one of your mom’s award-winning casseroles?”
I chuckled.“I don’t think she’s won awards.If she has, she’s been hiding the trophies.”
He crouched down, to peer in through the oven glass.“Don’t you dare tell either of them, but my mom is exceptionally jealous that yours got all the culinary talent.”He looked back, over his shoulder.“Oli?”
“Uh...”I blinked at him, feeling guilty: I’d been staring at his ass, the way it filled the jeans so perfectly.Suddenly very aware of the heft of my cock, currently hovering around the half-hard stage.
That was sufficient, it seemed, to make it noticeable.Flynn raised an eyebrow.
“Do you even have underwear on?”
I didn’t, but I wasn’t going to admit that.“Of course,” I told him, indignant.
He stood, brushing his hands on his thighs and eyeing me with skeptical amusement.“You’re a liar, but it’s a flattering lie, so I’ll let you off this time.”
I shrugged, as if his concession was entirely pointless since it was based on a false premise anyway.That said, Flynn’s own apparent fascination with what was outlined in my sweats was fairly flattering, too.
“Did you come over here just to steal my dinner?”
He leaned back against the edge of the counter.Arms crossed over his chest.“We used to be in and out of each other’s houses all the time, didn’t we.Literally without even knocking.”
“It’s been a few years.”
“And look at us now.”He dropped his gaze.“All grown up.”
I clicked my fingers in front of my crotch.Pointed up, entertained by Flynn’s unapologetic smirk as he met my eye again.“So?”
He sighed.“Always so businesslike.Fine.I wanted to ask you to move in with me.”
I blinked at him, instantly confused.I’d expected more flirting, more gentle teasing at my reticence to leave home.It seemed likely Flynn would be up for something sexual, too, an idea that certain parts of my anatomy were already enjoying picturing.But nothing like this.
“Did you hear me?”Flynn frowned.“Oli?”
“Why?”
The look he gave me was difficult to define, but ‘incredulous’ seemed to come closest.
“Uh, because I want to live with you?”He gestured, though it felt like that was mainly because he needed something to do with his hands.“Because I think it would be...fun?Good for us both?”
My frown deepened.“Live with you like...”
A shrug.“That’s negotiable, I think.I know relationships strike terror into the depths of your subconscious.”Flynn chuckled, presumably at my glare.“So it could be as friends, really good friends.Friends testing the waters of maybe, possibly, potentially dating.”
I swallowed.“My job is here.”
He nodded, slowly.“Yes.But you have another job offer, don’t you.”
It was like a splash of cold water, soaking me from head to foot.My chest instantly tight.“What?”
