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“They’re yours.”
“What do you mean, they’re mine?” I questioned.
She took a step back and folded her arms over her chest before explaining in rapid succession, “I have, like, four of your T-shirts and a pair of your gray sweats.”
I couldn’t help it, but I started laughing. “I wondered where those sweats had gone. They were my favorite.”
She tried to hide a smile. “I know. But the thought of you walking around in gray sweatpants made me crazy.”
I had no idea what the hell she was talking about. “Not sure what that means.”
An irritated sound slipped out of her mouth. “Look it up—gray sweats on guys. It’s a thing.”
“So, you stole my sweats,” I said matter-of-factly.
“And I’d do it again.” She wasn’t even remotely sorry.
“What about the shirts?”
“They smelled like you. Or at least, they used to.”
“Ivy.” I practically growled her name. “I knew you liked me, but stealing my clothes borders on obsession.”
“You call it obsessed; I call it creative acquisitioning.”
I couldn’t even act like I was the least bit upset at her thieving ways. She’d taken my clothes when I would have given them to her willingly.
“Take a shower with me.”
Her eyes narrowed into a mischievous look that matched her expression. “I thought you wanted me in this stupid skirt.”
“Now, I want you out of it.”
“You promise it’s not just sex?” She whispered the question, and for a second, I thought that she deserved something better than a shower for our first time. But I figured there would be so many more times after that it didn’t matter.
“I promise it’s not just sex. You could never bejustanything. Now, get naked.”
LONG LIVE SHOWER SEX
IVY
Saint had just confessed so many things to me that I’d not only never known, but I had also never even suspected before today. I’d honestly believed that he never looked at me as anything other than a little sister. And I’d definitely had no idea that all those times I had been scantily clad, trying to tease him and make him want me, actually worked.
Saint was incredibly good at hiding his feelings from me. But now, I also understood exactly why—Davey. The person who was now at the top of my shit list. The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. Saint and I could have figured out this thing between us years ago and probably even been together this whole time. But, no, my brother had had to go and stick his nose where it didn’t belong and try to control my dating life. Something he had no business doing.
“Ivy.” Saint’s voice interrupted my inner anger.
I tried to snap out of it. “Sorry. I was just getting mad at Davey in my head.”
Saint started shaking his. “No. Leave him out of this for now. Tonight is about you and me and no one else. Plus, I told you to get naked.”
“You did,” I said, sounding agreeable.
“You’re still in clothes,” he said, pointing out the obvious, and I noticed that the hardness in his pants was back and on full display.
I widened my eyes as I stared at it, unable to look away. How did Saint walk with that thing between his legs?
“You’re… still… in clothes,” I stuttered as I pointed at it.
