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Genevieve glanced down at her outfit and grimaced. She should change, yet she couldn’t. Corey was in her bedroom—where all her clothes were—and talk about awkward walking back in there to grab clothes. She had already felt awkward walking out the way she had.
Except when he hadn’t said a word to her apology, she didn’t want to keep standing there like an idiot, so the best thing had seemed to leave the room. And she did.
Well, whatever. He’d seen her in her outfit, had that entire heartbreaking conversation with her dressed like this that a few more minutes wouldn’t kill her. He’d do his thing looking through the box, say good-bye, and leave. And he was engaged. If he was a decent man, like he claimed to be, then he wouldn’t cheat on his fiancée.
She took another sip of her tea, draining the last remnants of it, then put the cup in the sink. Now what did she do?
It felt weird turning on the TV while Corey went through Melanie’s things in her room. She didn’t feel like reading—I’ll get to you soon, Julio—nor did she think she’d get into the story with him so close to her.
Not just because of what they talked about.
The sexual tension had been real. She hadn’t imagined it. The minute she had taken off her jacket and given him a glimpse of her skimpy outfit, it had ratcheted way up the sex-o-meter.
But nothing could happen. How weird would it be to sleep with the same guy her best friend had?
Way too weird.
Not to mention, he was totally not her type. Despite the drug issues in his past—because she’d never date someone who did drugs—they had nothing in common. He owned a bar and she could only assume drank way too much. She didn’t drink often. A beer or two, a glass of wine on occasion with her brothers, but that was it. He had a rough edge about him. In his features, his clothes. That leather jacket that screamed ‘I’m a bad boy, what you gonna do about it?’ She liked more reserved, clean-cut guys. He had a short, trimmed beard that, despite looking devilishly handsome with it, wasn’t her thing. She’d dated a guy with scruff before and it bugged her kissing him. Well, he’d been a sloppy kisser, too, so that didn’t help.
Bottom line, they weren’t well matched, and no matter how high the sexual tension climbed between them, she wouldn’t do anything about it.
Ha!
That was delusional thinking, to begin with. He hated her guts. He might look at her with desire in his eyes on rare occasions, but he’d never actually sleep with her. She took his daughter, gave him quite a scare, and he was never going to forgive her for that. Which was okay. She would never forgive herself either. It had been a dumb and foolish thing to do.
She groaned when a knock sounded on her door. Normally, she didn’t mind when one of the other residents of the building bugged her for something, but tonight was not a night she welcomed it. Especially with Corey in her place. It was bad enough her family knew what she had done; she didn’t need everyone else knowing, too.
Another groan escaped when she opened the door.
“Nice to see you, too, sis.” Her brother, Oliver, walked in with that slow gait he usually used, yet his body was always taut with tension as if waiting for something to jump out at him.
She never understood how he could amble along so calm and collected, yet be so stiff and waiting for action. It was an odd combination.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?” she asked, shutting the door.
Please oh please make this quick before Corey walks out here.That was the last thing she wanted—or needed.
“I can’t visit my sister?” Like Corey, he wore a leather jacket and didn’t make a move to take it off.
Good sign that he wouldn’t be staying long.
“How was work? Looks like you just got home. What’s for supper?”
Asking like she was going to cook for him. Wrong. He was here for another reason and thought small talk would butter her up.
She headed for the pantry and pulled out a box of cereal and set it on the counter. “Here you go. Just finished making it. What do you need?”
He grinned that charming grin that usually got her to cave to whatever he needed.
“You know that nice blue dress you have?”
She pursed her lips into a tight line. “Yeah, the one that showcases my babies too much. I own it, of course, I know I have it. I wouldn’t describe it asnice.”
More like, ‘hello, I’m looking to get laid’ was more its style. It was skin-tight, going barely past her ass, covering the tops of her thighs. Her boobs, which weren’t super big, but not super small, fit very snug in it, pushing them up and practically out of the dress. It was shimmery, but not glittery. It grabbed a man’s attention with ease.
She rarely wore the thing and had only bought it shopping with Melanie one time, who had convinced her she needed it in her life. Now she didn’t need it because she had never intended to wear it unless it was going out with Melanie somewhere.
“Feel like going out?”
