Page 44 of Eye Candy

Just then my brother barged back into the room. Without my glasses, my sight was blurry, but the basketball shorts he had put on were so obnoxious I had no trouble seeing them. Of course Joe had brought his gym bag to a party.

“Nice shorts,” I teased, because before he hated me, we used to always tease each other.

He ignored this. “Jemima told me I should say thank you, Chase.” His expression made it clear he did not agree. “Thank you.”

“And Teddy!” Jemima’s voice came from the hallway.

“Yeah. Thank you too.”

I didn’t know if he wouldn’t call her Teddy because he believed me that wasn’t her name, or he was embarrassed, or both.

“And?” Jemima’s voice prompted, still in the hallway.

I liked Jemima and felt guilty about being quick to assume she was bad for Joe. Now, I wondered if he was bad forher. Jemimaseemed clever and kind, and she didn’t come from money, if she used to be a nanny. This was typical of Joe—he dated women who either were eons more chaotic than him (Teddy) or had their shit together and had to mother him (Jemima).

But perhaps that wasn’t my problem to solve.

Joe sighed heavily. “I’m sorry for being a drunken jerk and ruining your party. And your rug. Which is fine now by the way. Jemmy used her skills.”

“Great,” I said, because I didn’t know what else to.

“There’s a car waiting for us,” Joe said.

More silence hung in the air.

“Joe…” I started but couldn’t figure out what to say after that. My brother waited in the doorway as I parsed possibilities. But there were too many choices, and I wasn’t quick enough.

“Don’t hurt yourself, Chase.” With a mocking salute, he left.

In the quiet, it was easy to hear the front door shut. I wondered if it would be another two months before I saw him again. Or perhaps never, if there wasn’t anything for me to fix for him.

“Chase?” Floss asked. “Are you OK?”

“I’m fine.”

For once, it was me lying to her.

She didn’t look convinced but started carefully squeezing her brown hair. I was pretty sure it was a wig, but asking her would get me nowhere. I put my glasses back on and carefully fastened my watch. “I think—” but when I turned around, the rest of the sentence died in my mouth.

Floss was in her bra and panties. Black lace intersected smooth pale skin, curved like a woman from one of her favorite old movies. My hands were itching to splay around her waist, then run down over those thick hips. She was supremely unselfconscious standing in my guest bathroom in only her underwear. She either didn’t know or didn’t care that my mental partitions were crashing down like dominoes.

Leisurely, she wrapped one of my fluffy robes around herself,then wiggled her hips, her fingers dancing over the soft cotton. My heart just about stopped when her panties dropped to the floor.

Her pussy was bare under my robe now.

And that line of thought illustrated how much trouble I was in when it came to her.

Myheart.

Myrobe.

And I wanted that to be my pussy.

“Sorry,” she said, not sounding it. “I thought I could strip faster than that. Everything’s harder when you’re wet.”

I needed to say something, but just like with Joe, the pressure of selection was overwhelming. No one could think properly when they were standing in wet pants. So I didn’t think, I acted. I flicked a hand over my belt, unbuckling it.

Her eyes widened and she spun on her heel.

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