JAMESON
I don’t know if it’s the shrill ringing of her phone, or the annoyed tone in which she answers it, that has me jumping off the couch from a dead sleep.
“Why are you calling me, Justin?” She makes the name sound like a curse rolling off her tongue.
Wait? Who the fuck is Justin?I glance at my watch and it’s barely past 7:00 a.m.
“Yeah, you told me about you and Kenzie.” Her voice is flat, like she’s trying to sound disinterested.
I grab my phone, slip my pants on, and button them as I walk toward the stairs.
“I’m not interested—” She sounded like she had more to say, so I’m guessing she got interrupted. I want to see her face, so I know how she’s feeling about this conversation. I take the stairs two at a time, trying to be quiet because it doesn’t sound like the girls are up yet.
Predictably, based on how I can hear every word of this conversation, Lauren’s door is only halfway shut.
I push it open, and it’s dark in there, but I can see light coming from the crack in the mostly closed bathroom door.
“Justin, I’mnot interested—”
I give two quick knocks before I push that bathroom door open, and Lauren spins toward me in surprise. She’s got a short white towel wrapped around her body, and her wet hair is freshly combed and dripping around her shoulders. She mouthsMy ex-boyfriend.
I hold out my hand for the phone and she gladly hands it over. When I bring it up to my ear, he’s still talking—a combination of yelling at her for being too stubborn to forgive him, and insisting he was the best thing that ever happened to her.
“I’m going to have to stop youright there,” I say, and the line goes silent. “She’s told you multiple times she’s not interested, so why the fuck are you still talking?”
“Who the hell are you?”
I’m so tempted to sayI’m her date for the wedding, since I know he’s going to be there. But she didn’t seem inclined to take me up on my offer last night, and as much as I want to force her into it in this moment, I want to respect whatever she feels like she needs and can handle. Which right now, may not be having to introduce me to her family at a wedding.
“I’m the person shedoeswant to be talking to at 7 a.m. on a Wednesday morning.”
The gratitude in Lauren’s eyes is replaced by something else as she finally notices that I’m not wearing a shirt. She drops her gaze to skim across my bare chest, and then drops it lower before her head shoots up. In her eyes, I see that she is not unaffected.
Good, because the friend zone is fine for the short term, but we’re not staying here much longer.
“We have to go now,” I say to Justin. “We’re busy.”
I hit the button to end the call and Lauren deflates against the sink cabinets behind her. “Thank you,” she says on an exhale. Then she shakes her head back and forth, saying, “God, I hate that asshole.”
“Then why did you answer the call?” I ask as I click over to the option to block the caller. Done.
“I was fresh out of the shower and didn’t want the ringer to wake the girls up, so I panicked.”
At the mention of her shower, I can’t help but focus on the beads of water running down her shoulders, across her chest, and pooling on the towel where it’s tucked in between her breasts. Her chest is heaving, her breath coming out in sharp exhales, and without even looking back up at her, I know it means she’s noticed me staring at her half naked body. She’s probably also noticed how fucking hard I am right now—a normal problem when waking up, made more extreme by finding her soaking wet and wrapped in a towel.
The combination of the humidity from her shower and the fact that all my blood is currently in my dick has me feeling like it would be a good idea to make some bad decisions right now. Instead of giving into the temptation before she’s ready, I turn to leave. But she reaches out and grabs my forearm, and when I turn to look at her, she’s staring at her fingers where they’re spread across the corded muscles.
“Maybe,” she says, her voice small and tentative, “I could use a date to the wedding after all.”
She’s asking because she’s nervous about seeing Justin, not because she wantsmeto go with her—and even though a few minutes ago I was okay with that option, now I’m realizing I don’t want to go unless she actually wants me there.
I lean closer. Just slightly ... just enough that when she looks up, it forces her to lean back over the counter. One of her arms goes back to help her balance, and as her back arches, her breasts tilt up toward me, making that towel really work to keep her covered up.
“Then maybe you shouldaskme. Nicely.”
In the low light of early morning, her eyes are almost a dark blue, and goose bumps prickle her chest as my words come out slow and deep.
She raises an eyebrow in response, her chest heaves again, and then she says, “Jameson, would you please accompany me to my cousin’s wedding?”