A giggling girl stumbles in, followed by Mac, who immediately sees what we’re doing and gives me a smirk. His blue eyes are sparkling with that “I thought so” look nobody likes.
I glare at him, silently telling him to shut up and fuck off.
He snickers, grabbing the girl’s arm and tugging her out of the room.
“Sorry,” she calls over her shoulder, and I flick the door shut with my foot, turning back to continue. I’m ready to jump right back into this love hurricane.
Nix is all things scorching and addictive. I want to get lost in this moment.
I want to get lost inside her.
My body is tingling with gleeful anticipation. My dick is hard, straining against my boxer briefs.
“Now where were we?” My voice comes out a husky mess as I reach for her again.
But I don’t get the chance to pull her close, because Nix is lightly pushing me away and jumping down from the dryer.
“You… you good?” My insides deflate when she turns away from me. I end up asking the back of her head just before she crouches down to retrieve the beer cans, then fill up her arms with a few more.
She ignores my question.
“Can you grab the rest?” Avoiding my confused expression, she acts like we weren’t just about to get it on and have smoking hot laundry room sex.
And I’m struggling to process this shit.
What just happened?
Why isn’t she…?
We’re alone again.
We can…
“Uh…” I try to quickly word these arguments, but my incoherent brain is stalling on me.
Pushing past me, her cheeks stained red, she wrestles with the door handle. Her instant regret is more than obvious.
Shit.
I thought she was into me.
I thought we had something good going here.
With a shorttsk, she struggles to turn the handle. Her hands are full, making the task nearly impossible, so I automatically help her out.
As soon as the door opens wide enough, she bolts through it, and I slump back against the dryer, curling my long fingers around the edge and shaking my head.
What the fuck?
I thought she was into me. Itfeltlike she was.
I mean, shit. Am I a really bad kisser or something?
I blow into my palm, checking my breath—smells like beer.
I sniff under my left pit—smells like deodorant.
Completely perplexed, I grab the rest of the beer tray and carry it out to the kitchen, scanning the room for Nix.
