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I drop my coffee to block the front of my jeans. “Can I come in?”
Probably not the wisest choice to go into Greer’s room. But I’m suddenly gripped by that familiar possessiveness I feel whenever I’m around her these days. I don’t want anyone else seeing her half-naked.
She blinks, clearly surprised. “Of course.” She opens the door wider so I can enter.
The room looks a lot like mine. Rumpled bed. Clothes draped over the chair in the corner. But it smells like her.
My gaze snags on a pile of clothes on the floor. Her jeans. Top. Jacket. And underneath it all, I see something lacy and pink peeking out.
A thong.
I nearly jump when the door closes behind me with a succinct bang.
Holding out her coffee, I manage, “Cream. Lots of sugar.”
Her fingers graze mine as she takes the cup, making me painfully aware of the heaviness gathering between my legs. “How’d you know how I take my coffee?”
“I saw you drinking it out of that big-ass mug at the bakery. Your coffee looked really light, so I knew you used cream. Guessed on the sugar.”
She pops the plastic lid off and brings the cup to her nose, her tits rising on a long inhale. Her nipples are hard now. She takes a sip. “Perfect. You know, I’m not sure anyone’s ever made me coffee before.”
“I didn’t make it.”
“Fine. I don’t think anyone’s ever brought me coffee before.”
“Seriously? After all the coffee you’ve brought everyone else?”
Her lips twitch. My heart twists. I love making her smile.
She sips again. I stare.
Hot, awkward silence.
I really wish she would put on pants. Or a bra.
I really wish I could reach between her legs and find out if she took off that thong last night and never put on another pair of panties.
What if she’s bare?
What if she’s wet?
What if I got on my knees and threw her leg over my shoulder and made her come right here?
I am a dog.
I’m also the adult—well, the one with more experience, anyway—so it’s up to me to bring up the elephant in the room.
“Greer.”
“Yeah?”
“Last night . . .” I lower my voice. “I meant what I said. It was a one-time thing, okay? I shouldn’t have done it.”
Her grin fades. Cheeks go pink. She draws a fingertip around the rim of her cup as she looks down at it. “We.”
“What?”
“We kissed. I was there too.” Her eyes flick to meet mine. “And I enjoyed the shit out of it, so stop beating yourself up.”
I let out a bark of laughter, ignoring the way my stomach dips. I knew she enjoyed it. But to hear her say it?
It’s got me thinking about things I shouldn’t. Like how she asked me to show her everything last night. Did she mean what I thought she did?
I can’t have Greer. But I could satisfy her if that’s what she needs.
I shake the thought from my head. Danger. “It’s not that I didn’t enjoy kissing you, Greer. I was just trying to make a point.”
“That you’re the best at it? Kissing?”
“Obviously.” I nod at her cup. “But for real, take coffee. You make me the best damn coffee every day. Strong, sweet. Just how I like it. Your thoughtfulness counts for a lot, considering how little I’ve been sleeping.”
She frowns. Takes a step forward. “Brooks—”
“It’s okay.” I can smell her perfume now.
“You sure about that?”
My stomach dips again. Why does she have to be so generous with her concern? Everyone else is happy to gloss over my half-hearted I’m fines.
Not Greer, though. She digs. She shows up. And now I’m starting to want her in ways I shouldn’t.
She makes me feel seen. Heard. Supported in ways no one else ever has.
No one but my sister.
“What I’m trying to say is, you help me out a lot,” I continue. “The coffee, the chocolate. The breakfasts and the skating. And last night, I wanted—I always want to return the favor. I also want to keep you from getting hurt. Keep you from settling. Which is why I kissed you then, and why I can’t—”
“Do it again.” She scrunches her nose. “You really think I’d be settling with you?”
“Yes. Compared to you, I’m basically a bitter old man.”
Her expression softens. “In my experience, people with a sweet tooth like yours aren’t bitter at all. They can’t be, because they’re mostly sugar inside.”
I don’t want to smile, but I do. “I don’t think anyone would call me ‘sweet’.”
“I would.” Her eyes search mine. “You love chocolate more than anyone else I’ve ever met. And I’ve met a lot of chocolate freaks.”
“I have my reasons.” My heart is going apeshit inside my chest.
“Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
I blink, confused. “Greer—”
“Stay there!” she calls over her shoulder as she disappears into the closet. A second later she emerges with a small box in her hands. It’s stamped with Drury Lane’s logo and wrapped in lavender ribbon. “So I only made these once before in a class I took back in college. But I had everyone at the bakery try them, and we all agreed they turned out pretty freaking delicious.”
