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Oh my god.
“Um, Molly?”
I open my eyes. Matthew stands by the door, observing my klutziness.
“Yeah?” My voice cracks. A breeze tickles my thighs. No, no, no. I should’ve worn those damn shorts. My lace-covered behind is out in the wind for all to see.
Just close your eyes and pretend to be invisible.
“Is this a morning stretch I don’t know about?” He appears above me. I crane my neck sideways. His six-foot-one frame seems exceptionally tall from this angle.“Or do you need help?” He outstretches his palm. Veins cord his forearm. Then my gaze falls a few inches to the left.
I gulp. Great. My fake boyfriend’s bulge stares back at me. A bulge that looks particularly…um, enticing under his workout shorts.
It’s rather well-endowed. At least from way down here.
“Uh.” I look away, reach for his palm, and scramble to pick myself up off the floor. “Thank you.”
“You alright?”
“Just peachy.”
Something in his gaze lights up.
Why did I say that?Ugh. He probably didn’t even put it together. I mean, Matthew’s older than me. I highly doubt he’s making the connection between the peach emoji and my exposed butt.
“Very peachy indeed,” he laughs. Nope, he definitely got it. “See you in a sec.” He enters the bathroom and shuts the door.
I collapse onto the bed.
I’m in need of a very cold bath.
Chapter8
Matthew
A week ago,everything was normal.
Now, I’m halfway across the country, waking up next to my achingly beautiful, off-limits coworker.
I glance over at Molly as we walk through the property. Should we be holding hands constantly now that we’re around people?
The sun beats down violently, but Molly sports an all-black outfit.Is this her way of mourning her engagement to Lance?
Instead of looking at her face, which is the only appropriate place to look, my gaze slips to the outline of her full breasts beneath her sheer shirt. They’re cupped in a bra that matches the lacy underwear she wore this morning. A damp sheen coats her chest, the skin hiding beneath the dark fabric.
How the hell did she manage to fall out of bed?
Another item to add to the bucket list. Seeing the peachiest ass.Check.
My icy shower this morning did nothing to wash away the image of her wearing my goddamn T-shirt and those fucking panties.
Christ.
I need another workout session to calm myself down. My dick hasn’t gotten the memo that we’re just sleeping next to Molly, not sleepingwithMolly. These thoughts are why I didn’t linger after I woke up.
No one has ever smelled quite like her. Those damn red ruby apples.
Who am I? Snow White?This is ridiculous.
