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I steeled myself and then reached out one finger to press between his perfectly molded pecs.
“Um, hi?”
CHAPTER4
Rock
It had been a long day. Hell, it had been a long couple of years, up at dawn to workout, all-day practice, and in bed later than I should have been. Wash and repeat for a couple years, and you might understand how a guy falls asleep naked on a couch.
For one thing, I like walking around naked.
For another, I was actually halfway between the shower and the kitchen when I realized the Quilters had scored while I was in the bathroom getting ready to shower, and I ended up sitting down for a minute to watch the Roosters pound them back into the ice.
But I was sleepy.
Still, the last thing I expected was to be awakened in my own apartment by... well, by anyone. It was my apartment. Granted, there were a few random items here and there that certainly did not belong to me, but I was too tired and too used to Aunt Nattie’s strange ways to think much about any of it.
I was dreaming about mashing Elliot Neville’s bearded face into the glass—he was my biggest rival and I often had triumphant dreams where I took revenge for him tripping me as I was about to score in last year’s championship game—but my dream ended abruptly.
With a very pointy finger in my chest and very wide eyes staring down at me. I saw these eyes, a startling shade of blue, through the one eye I popped open as the finger repeatedly jabbed at me.
In a flash, I grabbed the intruder’s pointy finger and held her in place. “Who are you?” I asked, my voice rough with sleep and irritation.
“Uh. Um. Now, hang on just a second!” She snatched her finger from my grasp and took a few steps back as I sat up and rubbed my eyes. “You’re the one in my apartment, so I am the one who will be asking questions. Who are you?”
“Rock Stevens.”
My named seemed to confuse the intruder. Her dark brown brows drew together, and her full pink lips pulled down into a frown. Then, irritatingly, she asked. “Rock? That’s your name?”
“Not the point here, sweetheart.” This woman, though definitely falling somewhere close to the better end of the attractiveness spectrum, was missing the point. “What are you doing in my house?”
“My house?”
“My house, like I said.” I rose to stand, and realized at that moment that I was one hundred percent naked. And even though it wasn’t morning, certain parts of me were wholly faithful to the idea that upon rising, one should, uh... rise.
I turned and snatched a throw pillow off the couch, wondering as I did so where Aunt Nattie had gotten this pink furry pillow. Was it supposed to be fake fur? What kind of animal was longhaired and pink? What a strange choice of pillow.
“Don’t put my pillow on your junk!” The woman leaned forward as if to snatch the faux fur monstrosity from my hands and then thought better of it.
“My pillow,” I said, holding it firmly. “Well, not mine. I don’t even know what kind of animal this might have been.” I stared down at the pillow.
The intruder was also staring at it, a look that could only be a mixture of horror, disgust, and confusion aimed at the spot where I held it nestled against my impressive lower region.
“This has been fun,” I said. “But if you just go ahead and go, I won’t have to call the police.”
“You?” she shrieked. Then she lifted her hand to her ear, and I realized she held a phone. “Did you hear that?” she asked the phone.
“Wait. Who are you talking to?”
“The police!” she said, her eyes widening. Then, to the phone, “yes, he’s still naked.”
I dropped the pillow and headed for the bathroom, where I’d dropped my shorts, and returned, tugging them on as she continued to describe the situation into the phone.
“He put on shorts.”
“Do the police really care if I’m wearing shorts?”
“Yes, because they will add indecent exposure to the multiple counts of breaking and entering, and fearful incitement, and...” she trailed off as she searched mentally for more made-up charges.
