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I could wash my laundry on those washboard abs of his.
"I feel so violated." Drew sighed.
I paused, my stomach sinking. "Do you really?” I didn't want him to feel uncomfortable.
He cracked a smile. "I’m just kidding. They didmuchworse to me when we filmed the promos for the show. At least you're letting me keep my shirt on."
"For now." I winked.
I rolled up his sleeves until they were just above the dip between his bicep and deltoid and while I did it I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to see him in person without his shirt on?
I’d probably faint. Those promos for the show already sent hot flashes through my body.
"You really think Treven would wear sleeves this short?" Drew frowned as he inspected his newly fitted shirt.
"Yep. Just like that." I stepped back, hoping to appear calm and unaffected by his good looks as my eyes moved up to his face. "I also think his hair might be slightly different. Come with me." I grabbed his hand, feeling warmth spike up my arm as I pulled him into the bathroom just down the hall.
"And what are we going to do in here?" Drew asked, looking around the small room at my curling iron, brushes, and makeup that I'd stacked haphazardly in a cart next to the vanity. "You're not going to put eyeliner on me, are you?"
"No, but if you think it would help, I'm not opposed to it. I just got a new glittery eyeliner that would really stand out against your dark lashes."
"As tempting as that is…I'll pass."
"Good choice." I had him sit down. "Are you okay if I change your hair?"
"You don't like it?" He peered up at me through his lashes, and I couldn't help but think how unfair it was for a guy to have such full and long lashes.
They were gorgeous.
"Your hair is great. Quite an improvement from the surfer-dude style you sported a few years ago."
"Hey, I'll have you know I had lots of women asking to touch my silky locks." His jaw jutted out.
"Whatever you say."
Then, as if realizing something, he said, "Wait. How did you know I had my hair longer? That was four years ago."
I bit my lip, realizing I’d been found out. "I, uh, ran across a photo of you online one day."
He raised his eyebrows and gave me a teasing look. "Did you stalk me online?"
My face heated. Why did he have to be so good at picking up on everything? "I didn't stalk you."That much.
He kept staring at me, like he could get me to confess anything if he just met me with that smoldering gaze for a few seconds.
And of course, it worked. He probably used that look in his business meetings all the time to get what he wanted.
"Fine. I looked you up once or twice."
"Why?"
Was there an exit from this conversation that didn't end with me looking like a fool?
"I was curious about what you were up to." I grabbed a comb from a drawer and started moving it through his dark hair, needing the distraction. His hair was so soft and silky.
He cleared his throat. ”I guess if we’re admitting things, I should probably tell you that I looked you up, too."
My hand stilled. He’d looked me up?
