Page 12 of Blitzing Emily

He stretched his arm around the back of the couch.

“Everything in your room smells like flowers, and your bed’s great.” He pulled up the edge of his t-shirt and sniffed it. Emily almost drooled at a glimpse of his rock-hard abdomen. Evidently, it was possible to have more than a six pack. “The guys will love my new perfume. Maybe they’ll want some makeup tips,” he muttered, and grabbed for the remote Emily left on the coffee table.

He clicked through the channels at a rapid pace.

“Excuse me. I had that.” She lunged for it. No such luck. Emily ended up sprawled across his lap.

“The operative word here, sugar, is ‘had.’” He held it up in the air out of her reach while he continued to click. He’d wear a hole in his thumb if he kept this up. “No NFL Network.” She tried to sit up again, which wasn’t working well. Of course, he was chuckling at her struggles. “Oh, I get it. You’re heading for second base.”

“Hardly.” Emily reached over and tried to push off on the other arm of the couch. One beefy arm wrapped around her. “I’m nottryingto do anything. Oh, whatever.”

“You know, if you want a kiss, all you have to do is ask.”

She couldn’t imagine how he managed to look so innocent while smirking.

“I haven’t had a woman throw herself in my lap for a while now. This could be interesting,” he said.

Emily’s eyebrows shot to her hairline. “I did not throw myself in your lap.”

“Could’ve fooled me. Which one of us is—”

“Let go of me.” She was still trying to grab the remote, without success.

“You’ll fall,” he warned.

“What’s your point?”

“Here.” He stuck the remote down the side of the couch cushion so Emily couldn’t grab it. He grasped her upper arms, righted her with no effort at all, and looked into her eyes. “All better. Shouldn’t you be resting, anyway?”

Emily tried to take a breath. Their bodies were frozen. He held her, and she gazed into his face. His dimple appeared, vanished, appeared again. She licked her lips with the microscopic amount of moisture left in her mouth. He was fighting a smile, but even more, he dipped his head toward her. He was going to kiss her.

“Yes,” she said.

Her voice sounded weak, but it was all she could do to push it out of lungs that had no air at all. He continued to watch her, and he gradually moved closer. Their mouths were inches apart. Emily couldn’t stop looking at his lips. After a few moments that seemed like an eternity, he released her and dug the remote from the couch cushion. She felt a stab of disappointment. He had changed his mind.

“Turns out you have the NFL Network, so I think I can handle another twenty-four hours here,” he announced as he stopped on a channel she’d never seen before.

“You might not be here another twenty-four minutes. Don’t you have a TV at home?” She wrapped her arms around her midsection. She wished she could come up with something more witty and cutting to say. She was so sure he would kiss her, and then he hadn’t.

“What’s a ‘sack’?” he mimicked, referring to her question at the hospital. “My work’s cut out for me, sugar. You know nothing about football. You need some help, and I’m the man for the job.” He turned the volume up a bit. “Finally. I feel right at home.”

“Well, good for you, Brandon. I can take care of myself now. Thanks for coming over.”

“Sure you can. There’s nothing in your refrigerator except beer and soda, a few condiments, a box of baking soda, and some kind of science project in a Chinese food container.” He shook his head. “I’m guessing you don’t cook.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

He laughed. The sound bounced around her living room. She had to laugh, too. The sudden explosion of joy on his face, the way his entire body shook, made her wonder what else she could say to make him laugh again.

He used the remote like a laser pointer.

“Okay. Here’s a prime teaching opportunity. It’s the Sharks versus the Minutemen from last year. We kicked their as— We beat them, badly. We can watch this, and then you can figure out what you’re making me for dinner.”

Emily found herself temporarily speechless again. He seemed to delight in saying whatever it might be that left her completely bewildered.

“We’re not getting into a restaurant tonight,” he said. “I’m hungry, and I’m stuck here.”

“You’re notstuckanywhere!” She clutched her head. God, it hurt.

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