Page 61 of Love Is Ale You Need

“A little after ten. I see you got conned into being a princess for the evening.”

His brows furrow. I nod toward the pink plastic jeweled necklace around his neck. His fingers pat his chest until he finds the necklace and lifts it.

“Oh. Yeah.”

“The crown is a nice touch, too.” I giggle.

“I got hustled playing Pretty Pretty Princess. Your daughter ruthlessly kicked my ass, and she had no issues doing it.”

“I always tell her to be proud of her work.” I pick at a piece of invisible lint on the couch. “Your babysitting duties are over. Thank you for watching Abby.”

Trey sits up and leans on his elbow. He removes the tiara, along with the necklaces, and sets them on the floor. “It was nothing. Abby’s a great kid.”

“But also…” I pick at my fingernail. Nerves hitting me like a semitruck barreling down the freeway. “With it being so late, if you don’t want to drive home…”

He sits all the way up. His mouth inches from mine. “Are you asking me to have a sleepover?”

“Only if you want. So you don’t have to drive home. But sleep is the only thing that can happen.” I nod toward the hallway. “Abby.”

There hasn’t been a guy in my bed since Kyle. Sleepovers were off limits. Plus having a toddler who insisted on also sleeping in my bed made things a little more difficult. Dating in general was difficult with a toddler and on those rare occasions I did go out, I lost interest fairly quick, or the sex was mediocre at best, and there was no chance for a second date. With Trey it’s different. Any other guy that I’ve kissed has never felt like this. It’s an out of body experience with him, like my nerve endings are all firing at the same time. Even the first time I met Kyle, it never felt like this.

“A chance to spend a few more hours with you… I’ll take it.” He presses his lips to mine in a chaste kiss.

I grab his hand and lead him to my bedroom. Once inside, I close the door behind us. Trey strips out of his shirt and pants, and I fight every fiber of my being to not stare while he does it. Instead, I change into a long t-shirt that kisses the top of my thighs. When I turn around, Trey has the covers folded back and he’s lying on the bed, his mountainous abs on full display.

“Shit,” he groans. “You expect me to keep my hands to myself when you’re wearing that next to me?”

“Yes. Have some self-control.” I bite back a smile. Like I’m one to talk. With Trey next to me, I’m the one who’ll need to execute some self-control. I twist the knob on the lamp, and it clicks off, shrouding the room in darkness. In a few short steps, I reach the side of the bed and crawl onto the mattress, pulling the blanket over me.

“I don’t know if that’s a word in my vocabulary, especially when you’re involved.” He wraps an arm around me, tugging me close to him, his face nuzzling the nape of my neck. “I’ll execute this self-control that you speak. But next time, I can’t make any promises.”

After a couple of minutes, Trey rolls to his other side. His hand grabs my wrist and tugs me so my arm is wrapped around his waist.

A ghost of a laugh escapes me. “You want to be little spoon?”

“Uh huh.”

“Isn’t that demasculinizing?”

“I’m comfortable with my masculinity. Plus, it feels nice.”

I cuddle into his warm back, inhaling his signature scent that I love. “This is nice, and for once, I don’t have to worry about a dick poking me in the ass.”

“Don’t worry. The night’s still young.”

A smile spreads over my lips as I drift off to sleep.

* * *

“I don’t know why he keeps turning down my advances.”

“Maybe he’s dating someone.”

“Trey Wilson doesn’t date. Maybe I’ll have to double my efforts. I have a meeting set up with him to show me some houses, but maybe I’ll be the one doing the showing.”

“Oh, you’re so bad.”

For the past ten minutes I’ve been eavesdropping on a conversation two women are having at a pub table at Porter’s. My molars grind together every single time they mention his name. I hate this, especially after last night. Even though sometime throughout the night we swapped positions, and I did wake up with his dick poking me in the ass, it was sweet. But Kyle was sweet at one time, too. We’re just friends with exclusive benefits. But how much does that actually mean? They’re just a bunch of random words strung together to make it sound like something it isn’t. He could still be poking other women in their ass.

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