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“Whew,” she said. “I think the crisis has been averted.”
He turned to her, setting his hands on his hips. Her gaze took him in, and that’s when he realized he was naked.
Thank fuck they weren’t in a ground-level apartment.
“Well, good morning, Mr. Wood.”
He sighed and palmed his dick, squeezing it. “Girl, don’t talk to my dick.”
“Why not?”
“It’s weird.”
“Oh. Sure. Sorry.” She curved in on herself and it took him by surprise. Normally, she could give as good as she got. Oh, she had some insecurities about her body. But with everything else . . . she would happily snark back at him. Not letting him get away with shit.
So why did she look like he’d kicked her?
Because he’d said it was weird to speak to his dick? He didn't really mean it. Well, it was weird.
But he didn’t care that much.
“Maeve,” he said quietly.
She moved to the burned bacon, throwing it into the garbage bin. “Sorry, I burned breakfast.”
Fuck.
How did he make this better?
You could try hugging her.
Fuck. Shit.
Fine.
He stomped over behind her and held out his arms. “Come here.”
She turned to look at him, puzzlement filling her face. “What is it?”
“I’m going to give you a hug. Come here.”
Her eyebrows rose. “You are? Why?”
“I upset you. I should make it better.”
She shook her head, but he saw her lips twitch. She was amused.
Thank fuck.
“Is that how you hug someone?” she asked.
“Well, how the hell do you do it? By rubbing your nose against theirs?” What did she want from him?
“No, but I figured you might reach out to them. Not open your arms up and bark at them to come here.”
He grunted. “You want the hug or what, girl? Cause you got until I count to three. One—”
He didn’t get any further before she threw herself at him. He had to take half a step back as she wrapped herself around him like a limpet.
