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“What had you in stitches when I picked you up tonight?” he asks.
“I’ll never tell.” I doubt it’d be as funny out of context. We were laughing about womanhood in general. It started with long lines at public restrooms and ended with us joking about men and their appendages.
“Your sister in bed with her cookbooks?”
“Yes.” I don’t know what comes over me, but I blurt out, “She thinks I should be over there having sex with you.”
“I knew I liked her.” His smile is a flash of white in the dark. A pleasant thrill trickles down my body, warming everywhere it touches. Keeping my walls up with him is becoming harder and harder. “You miss me, don’t you?”
I roll my eyes rather than admit he’s right.
He makes a show of looking over his shoulder at the fireplace. “Cozy over here, Wildflower. Why don’t you sneak out and pay me a visit?”
A smile curls my lips before I can stop it. My excuse of spending Lis’s last evening with her seems lame since she’s already gone to bed.
“I have to be home to enjoy homemade beignets tomorrow morning,” I say, the weakest caveat ever.
“I accept those terms.” He pushes away from the ledge, walks inside, and returns with the electric blanket. As he’s unspooling the cord, he says, “Come on over. What do you have to lose?”
So much, Kingpin. So much.
I go over anyway.
