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“First of all,” I pointed out, “he’s a man. A really hot man. And secondly, why not? You going to get a different roommate in your empty apartment in the next two and half months?”
“That’s a good point,” she paused, as if thinking. “Yeah, okay. He probably has a bougee place anyway, right?”
I looked around the bright, modern apartment that was bigger than my childhood home. “It’s pretty nice.”
“Okay, but if he plays games, you be a big girl and bounce,” she warned.
“Trust me. I can handle Big Bad Brady,” I grinned. The elevator doors slid open, and speak of the sexy devil, Amos Brady walked toward me like I’d summoned my own personal demon. I gave him an up-down flick of my eyes as I took in his wide shoulders straining against the sage button-down shirt. Staring down at his phone, Amos scrolled through something as he strolled lazily toward his front door.
He stopped short when he realized I was holding it open. I gave him my sexiest smolder.
“Oh, I see, the virgin is talking a big game now,” Liz joked, cackling.
I glared at her through the receiver. “I’m not a virgin anymore, thank you very much. Twice over. Although it would be more ifmister cranky pantswould stop coddling me.”
Amos slid his phone into his back pocket and rolled his eyes.
“How are you, by the way?” Liz asked, sobering. “That was crazy. I saw it in the news and everything after you told me.”
“Much better,” I said, emphasizing the words with a flare of my eyes for Amos’ benefit. He gave me a perturbed stare in return. “Seriously, I don’t even notice my shoulder anymore.”
Amos stood toe-to-toe with me, his eyes sparking with dark humor. He circled my right wrist with his thumb and forefinger and lifted slowly.
“Agh,” I gasped. My arm hadn’t even made it parallel to the ground before the pain had pulled him up short. Amos smirked.
“June?” Liz asked. “You okay?”
He leaned down, and in my other ear, he whispered low, “Stay on the phone. Keep her talking on speaker phone.” He brushed a kiss against my jaw before straightening again.
Giving him a questioning glance, I brought my phone between us and tapped the speaker icon. “Yeah, I’m here,” I said distractedly. My eyes were on Amos as he loosened his tie and burned me to cinders with his stare.
“Bedroom,” he mouthed. My eyebrows zipped up.
“Well, I’m glad you’re feeling better. That must have been crazy,” Liz said.
“It was,” I answered slowly, my mind doing the rumba. The bedroom had better mean games. If he made me lie down and watch TV again, I was going to scream. But if we were playing games, why did I have to stay on the phone with Liz? “Tell me about your DJ.”
While Liz launched into an overly detailed diatribe of her DJ’s best qualities, I sat on the edge of the bed and set the phone on the bedside table. I leaned my weight against my left hand, lounging with my eyes on the doorway expectantly. “He did what with two cherries?” I asked Liz.
“Knotted both the stems at the same fucking time,” she screeched happily. “Oh my God, it was so sexy.”
Beyond the windows behind me, a blazing July sunset had set the city on fire with an orange glow. Lights blinked on one by one, slowly dotting the deepening night like fireflies. When Amos entered, the evening light filtered over his skin like sepia tone. He’d removed his tie and undone the first two buttons on his earthy green shirt, and with his tie wrapped around his fist, he motioned for me to stand with two fingers.
My pulse galloped to life, and I stood with my eyes glued to the angles of his body and the devious smirk curving his lips. He made his fingers twirl, motioning me to turn around. “Oh my God,” I whispered, smiling.
“Huh?” Liz asked.
“I, uh, just… that’s crazy,” I stumbled.
“Right?” she agreed. “Wait, wait, shit, did I tell you about nineties night?”
“No,” I said, facing the wall of windows now and drumming my fingers against my sweatpants. I had to wear the ugliest, loosest clothing to accommodate the aches and pains from my fall. There were bandages on my legs and kinesthetic tape on my shoulder to help keep it in place. Not a sexy look, but I didn’t care anymore. It had been days since I’d been discharged from the hospital, and sleeping next to Amos’ roaring hot body every night was doing things to me. Deliciously awful things.
Liz launched into a long explanation of her club escapades, and then I felt Amos behind me. He slid his hands under my baggy T-shirt and carefully lifted it, grazing my skin with his knuckles. I drew in a sharp breath.
He pressed his lips to the sensitive spot under my ear, inhaling before pulling away and shimmying my shirt forward so it looped down my front and didn’t require me to lift my arm. He pinched my bra clasp and let it fall open.
“… it was like, wait, you want me to getinthe cage?” Liz went on.
