Page 40 of Off Limits

Me: In my room waiting for you

Simon: Perfect. Be there in 5

Is it perfect because he wants to have sex right away? Or perfect because he knows where I am? Or …?

Closing my eyes, I force myself to take a deep breath to try to stop myself from spinning out before he even gets here. I’m being ridiculous. “Stop it,” I whisper to myself. “It’s Simon. You know Simon.” Or kind of, at least. I know enough. “You like Simon. You’re comfortable with him. Quit freaking out!”

With that pep talk out of the way, I stand up again and start pacing the suite, tapping my phone in the palm of my free hand, because I’m too keyed up to sit still. Five minutes is a looooong time when you’re waiting for your kinda sorta secret boyfriend-slash-hookup to get to your room.

Especially when I look at the time and realize it’s been closer to ten minutes.

But then there’s a knock at the door, and I open it to see Simon’s chest covered in soft gray cotton. Tilting my head back, I finally take in his smiling face.

“Hey,” he says, soft and gruff.

“Hey,” I answer, dazed and fluttery.

One side of his mouth hitches up even higher. “Can I come in?”

“Oh! Right. Yes. Of course. Come in.” I step back, holding the door open for him, and he ducks inside, even though I’m pretty sure he would’ve cleared the door without ducking. He’s tall, but he’s not quitethattall.

Once the door is closed, I turn to face him. He stands in the center of the living area, glancing around at the space, but then his eyes are on me, sweeping me from head to toe. “You look beautiful,” he breathes.

“Thank you. So do you.”

That makes him laugh, but I’m serious. Even in athletic pants and a T-shirt, he looks beautiful. “I didn’t expect you to dress up.” He gestures to his clothes. “Sorry, I—”

I shake my head. “Don’t apologize. You’re fine. I wasn’t sure what we were doing about dinner, and last night …”

He rubs the back of his neck, a faint hint of red creeping up his cheeks. “Oh, right. Yeah. I was, uh, expecting something a little more … casual.”

Casual. Does that refer to dinner? Or our relationship? Or … both?

“Casual,” I repeat. “Right.”

“I mean, we said we’d be hanging out in your room.” He looks like he’s in pain. “God, this is awful. Why am I being so awkward? Can we sit? Let’s sit.”

I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding and smile at him. “Of course. Let’s sit.”

I wait for him to pick his spot on the end where Autumn normally sits, dropping his backpack on the floor next to him, and I curl my legs under me on the other end of the couch.

He frowns at me and holds out a hand. “What are you doing way over there? Come sit with me.”

Putting my hand in his, I let him reel me in. He pulls me all the way into his lap so I’m straddling him like I was last night, except this time there’s no steering wheel or gear shift to get in the way. His hands settle on my hips, sliding up my rib cage to encourage me to lean forward, and he gives me one of his signature kisses—soft and sweet and just right.

I sigh at the feel of his lips on mine, and his chest rises and falls as he relaxes under me. He ends the kiss without taking it any farther. He moves a few strands of hair out of my face as he looks at my lips and gives me the ghost of a smile. “There,” he whispers. “That’s better. Now. What were you expecting tonight?”

I settle back on his firm thighs, slowly giving him my weight, but he seems entirely unfazed, his hands still resting on my hips as I get comfortable since this is apparently how we’re going to be conversing for the moment. I shrug. “I really wasn’t sure. We didn’t exactly outline our plans other than that we’d end up alone in my room at some point. I did think you might want dinner, though.”

“God, yes,” he says. “I’m starving. But when you said you were waiting for me in your room, I thought …”

He trails off, the tips of his ears going pink, and I find it adorable that he’s a blusher too. In all of our previous encounters, he’s been very take-charge. To see him uncertain and blushing over a sex conversation makes me want to give him a big hug. Of course I’m sure that hug would turn into kissing and rubbing myself on him … which isn’t exactly a bad thing, considering our plans for the evening.

“You thought I was ready for sex right now.”

He nods. “But you’re dressed like you’re ready for a date, and I’m in workout clothes—clean ones, but still.”

I grin at him. “Order pizza and make out on the couch until it gets here?”

---