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Despite the order Alex had issued when he’d demanded she wear his robe, she made a split decision. She slipped into a satin, floral-print chemise in lavender, mint, and mauve. The drapey neckline dipped provocatively. The back swooped down to her tailbone. The tight hem barely skimmed the tops of her thighs.
She added a lacy lavender thong, fluffed her fat curls, and returned to the kitchen.
Alex spewed wine. “Holy fuck!”
Lola grinned. “You didn’t think I was going to forget about what happened between us, did you?”
“Nothing happened between us,” he insisted as he sopped up the mess with paper towels before reaching for the sanitizing wipes.
“Well, then,” she said. “If you’re not into me, it shouldn’t be a problem what I wear.”
He glared at her.
“Or you could just admit what’s going on…” She wagged her brows.
“Let’s eat.”
Alex had already set the table. He carried over the bowl of pasta he’d tossed with the zesty-smelling sauce, and a basket of garlic bread. She grabbed their wineglasses.
Sitting across from him, Lola pinned him with a bold look and said, “We’re best friends. We’re crazy about each other. Why aren’t we having sex?”
Alex handed her the basket. “A man would have to be blind or dead to not think you’re hot, Lo. So it’s not exactly a New World Order.”
“I’m not fishing for compliments. I want to know what you’re thinking.”
“And what? You’re going to get me all worked up with a skimpy outfit and high heels so I’ll make some sort of confession?” He looked a bit crazed.
Lola’s gaze narrowed. “Are you all worked up?”
“Aw, Jesus.” Alex stood. Taking his wineglass to the counter, he poured himself a healthy amount.
She regarded him a few moments, trying to discern his mood. Then bit the bullet and asked, “Don’t you want some fireworks in your life?”
Alex sipped, apparently mulling this over. “Just because we’re best friends doesn’t mean there’d be fireworks. And let’s face it. We’re polar opposites. We’d never mesh.”
Lola turned back to the table and munched on her garlic bread for a few moments. He kind of had a point. Hadn’t she been saying the same thing all along?
She wiped her hands with her napkin and said, “Fine. I’ll go get the robe.”
“No.” He blew out a long breath. “I can handle it. I just—” He grumbled under his breath a little.
“You just… what?”
Alex returned to the table, slipping into his seat across from her. “Yeah, I’m attracted to you. All right? Now you know the only secret I’ve ever kept from you.”
Her heart melted. “Alex.”
“Don’t make me regret telling you.”
She laughed. “I wouldn’t. I’m glad you finally said something. But…” She shook her head. Reached for her wine.
“Yes?” he asked, his voice trepid.
“Well, it’s just that, I can’t stop thinking about it… or you. I mean, you’ve sort of blown my mind with everything you’ve got going on right now.” She could barely take her eyes off him. And her pulse jumped—very unexpected. “Honestly, I didn’t wear that nightie to tease you. I pretty much thought you were immune to me.”
“Again,” he said in a dry tone, “you do get a glimpse of yourself in the mirror from time to time?”
“Alex.” She eyed him squarely. “I’ve had a grown-up’s body since I was seventeen. I’m pretty much immune to me. And it’s not like my body is something new and intriguing you’ve just discovered.”
