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She opens the door wearing a little crop top and shorts. God, she’s not making it easy to keep my hands off her, but I’m here to talk - nothing more.
“Morning, Buttercup,” I say, and she grins.
“Come in.” She motions me to follow her. Fuck me, her ass looks amazing in those shorts. I peel my eyes away and look around her new place.
“I like what you’ve done with the place, really made it your own.”
She laughs. Moving boxes are piled high in the living room. “I’m working on it.”
She turns back to me and says, “The bedroom’s unpacked.”
Before I can respond, she points the other direction. “And the kitchen.”
“Priorities.” I follow her into the kitchen and hold up a bag.
“Is that Mario’s?” she says, snatching it from me and opening the bag.
“Yup.”
She looks up at me, surprised. “You went all the way to Mario’s this morning?”
I shrug. “I was up early.”
She pulls out two breakfast sandwiches and places them on the table. “Coffee?”
“Please.”
She adds cream, no sugar to hers and sugar with no cream to mine and then she places both of them on the table.
She carefully unwraps her sandwich and then leans down and smells it. “Oh god, I haven’t had one of these in forever. Do you remember we stayed up all night after James’ Inauguration and then got Mario’s for breakfast?”
“You were still drunk.”
She laughs. “You know, I never had a hangover. Must have been Mario’s.”
She flashes me a bright smile and then takes a big bite.
“Oh my god, that’s even better than I remembered,” she groans. I watch her eat for a minute.
She gives me a wicked look and then says, “Do you remember having sex in the bathroom at the Inaugural Ball?”
I drag both my hands over my face. “Of course I do.”
“Quinn almost caught us.”
“Yeah, I remember that too.”
She’s still looking at me like she’d like to devour me. “Up against the door. I’m surprised we didn’t ruin my gown.”
She’s making me hard. We need to talk – and not about fucking each other. Well, actually that’s exactly what we need to talk about, but not like in a sexy way. I shift in my seat and pick up my sandwich.
“Have you come to any decisions?” she asks, taking a sip of her coffee.
I chew for a moment and then wipe my mouth. “I need more information.”
Her eyebrow shoots up. “It’s not a hard no?”
It should be. I can think of a million reasons why I should just tell her no right now, but yet, I’m sitting here like an idiot having this conversation. “Like I said, I need more information.”
