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“Yeah. The television is in my room.”
Jon and I don’t have one in the living room. We don’t watch much TV and aren’t the entertaining type. I purposely kept this fact from Lizzy when I invited her over.
“You don’t have one down here?” Her eyes scurry around the room.
“Nope.” I try to keep my lips from curving into a smile as her mouth hangs open. “Come on,” I say, gently tugging her arm to pull her into the kitchen. “Don’t be a weirdo.”
I hand her the pizza box and plates before grabbing the beer from the fridge, and then I turn to head for the stairs. It takes her a moment, but she follows me.
I set the beer down on my desk and gesture for her to do the same with the pizza, feeling uneasy as her eyes take in every inch of my bedroom.
“So,” I clap my unsteady hands together, “what should we watch first? Say Anything, Can’t Buy Me Love, Some Kind of Wonderful, When Harry Met Sal—”
“Not that one,” she rushes in a higher pitch than normal, her face turning a deep red.
“Okay. Want to start with Say Anything?”
She nods, her eyes avoiding me.
I put the movie in then hand her a beer and a slice of pizza before getting my own. She stays glued to her spot as I plop down on my bed, but she’s breathing like she just finished a marathon.
“You going to sit down?” I chuckle, reaching for the remote.
She looks around the room and spots my desk chair, promptly sitting in it without responding.
“That chair isn’t very comfortable.”
Her need to keep her distance from me might’ve been offensive if I didn’t find it so adorable. Plus, something tells me it has more to do with her concern over her willpower, rather than mine.
“I’m good.” She gives me a tight smile before taking a bite of her pizza.
Twenty minutes and one beer later, Lizzy starts acting more like herself, laughing and giving me hell like normal. By the time the second movie is underway, she is unmistakably tired and uncomfortable, yawning and rubbing her neck.
“You should let me take care of that,” I offer with a grin.
“What?” Her back straightens as she drops her hand.
“Your shoulders. You should let me rub them for you. Come on.” I pat the mattress in front of me as I sit up, placing my back against the headboard.
“I’m okay.” Her tone is soft, her words shaky. Even in the dim light, I spot the slight blush on her cheeks.
“Don’t be silly. You’re clearly tired and uncomfortable over there. I’m only offering the massage, not the happy ending. I promise.”
She looks back over at me, smiling as her posture takes a more relaxed stance. I pat the spot in front of me again and motion with my head for her to come over. She stares at me, biting the inside of her bottom lip. It’s a telling sign she’s going to cave. She joins me on the bed a second later, scooting in beside me.
“Come over here so I can rub your shoulders.”
“Really, it’s okay. You were right. I was uncomfortable sitting in that chair.”
I sigh in frustration and scoop her up, positioning her between my legs as she gasps. It’s hard to ignore the heat-filled need that rushes through my veins as I pull her body flush with mine.
She remains stock still, her shoulders square with tension and arms tightly at her sides. Not even the rise and fall of her chest is detectable.
“Relax.” Her body quivers at my whispered command as my hands land on her shoulders.
My thumbs skirt beneath the collar of her shirt; applying light pressure, I begin rubbing her taut muscles. Her body remains rigid at first, but it doesn’t take long for her shoulders to soften in my hands. My own breath catches as she settles into me, my heart swelling with contentment.
“Isn’t that the mom from Back to the Future?” I ask, trying to distract myself from the need building in my body.
