Page 48 of One Moment Please
“A car.” He takes a sip of his beer bottle that looks a bit too pedestrian in his hand.
I fold my arms casually, needing to hold myself together. “I mean, how did you know where I was?”
His brows furrow. “You texted me.”
“No, I didn’t,” I retort. I then feel in my back pocket for my phone that’s most definitely not there. I glance toward the kitchen where Dean stands, holding his beer bottle up to me in a silent cheers.
“Thanks, Dean,” I grumble and slide my hands into my back pocket.
“Dean did this?” Josh asks, his eyes narrowing as he shoots a look over his shoulder before returning his attention to me. “He probably thought I wouldn’t come. Your text said: Want to come to a romance party? Here’s the address.”
“Oh, boy.” I wince.
Josh shakes his head. “Dean seems strangely determined to test me at every turn.”
“He’s just looking out for me.”
“So you keep saying.” Josh’s eyes smolder into mine with curiosity. “I take it you didn’t want me to come?”
“I figured you had to work,” I reply with a casual shrug. “And this doesn’t seem like your scene.”
He cocks his head. “How would you know what my scene is?”
“You’re right, I don’t know. Yet another reason I shouldn’t move in with you.”
He rolls his eyes and takes another drink, his Adam’s apple sliding up his thick neck as he swallows. “You’re right, this isn’t my scene.”
“I knew it.”
“I prefer smaller groups.”
I nod. “I could have guessed that.”
“This is why youshouldmove in with me.” He steps closer, his eyes dancing with mirth. “You know me better than you’re willing to admit.”
“So you say.” I press my hand to his stomach to stop him from invading my space anymore.
His spicy aftershave is intoxicating as my fingers flatten on the ridges of his abs. My body instantly wants to snake my arms inside his jacket and enjoy the heat of him against me, press our bodies together so he completely envelops me.
Fuck these fucking hormones.
And fuck the memories of that night we had sex months ago that still course through my mind like it was only yesterday.
He peeks at my hand. “Once upon a time, you liked what I said.”
“When was that?” I lift my eyes to him. “When you were telling me I was crazy? Or accusing me of feigning amnesia?”
He cocks his head and the corner of his mouth twitches into a smirk. “More like when you were spread out naked on my bed.”
My cheeks flush, and I have to squeeze my thighs together to quiet the need that swells in my core.
He watches me curiously. “Are you feeling hot, Jones?”
“Hot?”Am I hot? When did my hand move to his pec?
His eyes rove over my face. “Your cheeks are red.”
I swallow and turn away to fan myself, hating how much I love the way he says my last name. “There are a lot of people in here.”
