Not that she wanted to be reminded of the naughty Cupid between the legs that weren't even hers. But frankly, right now not much could make her forget him.
The door opened.
She forgot Cupid.
Evan Barrett blinked at her, his chocolate eyes heavy with sleep and his caramel hair tousled. He wasn't wearing a shirt, showing off his summer tan and broad shoulders. His hand lazily scratched his chest.
Halley's mouth went dry. Her eyes lowered to his hunter green boxer shorts, which weren't pulled up nearly as far as they could be, revealing that soft tuft of chestnut hair that went down to that fabulous…
Damn. He was gorgeous. And while technically not naked, he was close enough to set her, uh, skin on fire.
"Halley?" He squinted and leaned forward a little, as if the lighting was bad.
God, what was she wearing? She realized she hadn't seen Evan in a few weeks, and she had just stormed over here without even doing a makeup check. Glancing down, she gave a sigh of relief. All right. Khaki Capri pants and an aqua blue tank top. Not the stuff of fantasies, but not cellulite-displaying running shorts either.
Then she concluded her mental inventory by reminding herself that until six months ago when she had lost her mind and starting panting after him, she would have thought nothing of letting Evan see her wearing bulky flannel pajamas and a serious case of bed head.
Little reality check. She could be wearing a toga and it wouldn't be relevant to the situation at hand. Which was her catering-in-the-nude website.
Her anger returned, plus a little irritation just because Evan looked so good. If he wasn't so damn cute, none of these confusing feelings would ever have surfaced and their relationship could have stayed on solid, nonnaked footing.
Evan looked confused. "Am I dreaming?"
"What? No, you're not dreaming." And she knew she wasn't either, because if she were, he would be all over her like a cat on tuna right now.
His eyes raked over her, sharpening as the sleep receded. "Damn, that's weird. This is exactly like the sex dream I've been having lately. I open the door, and you're standing there… only you're usually wearing a bikini and high heels."
Her jaw dropped. Was he serious? A sex dream? About her? Of course he wasn't serious. He was joking, something he did a lot with her. Which was what friends should do. Not lust after each other in secret.
In fact, a lot of his teasing was sexual in nature, but until recently she had never even noticed. But now it had the effect of a furnace turned on full blast. Sweat popped up in unpleasant places.
She tried to smile and forced a rusty laugh past her lips. "Sounds like a nightmare to me."
He shook his head, a slow sexy smile crossing his face. "Not the way I had it playing out."
Her eyes rolled so far back in her head she practically fell over. It wasn't funny as far as she was concerned. Because she really wanted him to mean it. And he didn't.
"Dreams are often better than reality."
Evan laughed and ruffled the top of her hair like she was his favorite terrier. "I've missed you lately. Where have you been hiding?"
At work, far, far away from him and his lethal grin. Away from Evan, she could pretend her feelings were the result of not having had a date in two years. Standing in front of him, she knew better. She had inexplicably developed the hots for her best friend.
"Business is crazy. You know what this time of year is like." She breezed past him into his apartment.
Evan grinned, pushing his hair out of his eyes as he followed her. "So if you're not here to act out my recurring sex dream, what can I do for you? And just in case you were worried, I don't mind that you woke me up. It wasn't a late night last night, I stayed home alone."
Halley hid a grimace behind her hand, pretending to scratch her lip. Yuck. She hadn't even stopped to think about the fact that Evan might not be answering his phone because he was with someone. Having walked in on that twice in the past, she was glad she had been spared that kind of vomit-inducing scene today.
Not that she had seen Evan with a woman lately. In fact, it had been months since he had mentioned dating anyone. What a shame. It was wrong to be thrilled at that thought, but there it was.
"I wasn't worried about it," she shrugged. "Because I had to see you."
"Missed me, huh?" he teased.
If he only knew. She whirled around to face him, hands on hips.
"I've been hacked," she said in an outraged voice. "Can you believe it?"
The corner of Evan's mouth pulled up. "That sounds like a personal problem to me, sweet stuff."
The amusement in his voice didn't bother her nearly as much as the silly nickname he used, with no idea whatsoever what it did to her. He'd been calling her that for almost ten years, and now unexplainably, it had the effect of a blowtorch between her thighs.
Which was not what she needed to be thinking about.
"I'm serious." She forced herself to visualize Cupid between her legs, and felt appropriately horrified again. "My website has been hacked and you've got to fix it before clients start seeing it."
Evan flopped down onto the couch with his legs spread and said, "What did they do to it?"
Halley paced back and forth and cleared her throat. "Well, um, it's kind of hard to explain." Like dryer sheets. She'd never been able to figure out how those things worked.
Evan pushed his unkempt hair out of his eyes. "In my dream, this is the part where you walk in and stand in front of me, and I pull on the bikini strings…"
Evan's voice was low, charming, and luscious across her body as she walked over to him.
If only he knew how horny that made her, he wouldn't find it so funny anymore. More likely he'd leap out of his window to get away from her.
Halley cleared her throat for emphasis, ignoring the way his boxer shorts pulled up tautly and showed her a fabulous glimpse of his assets. One false move on his part, and she would be seeing a whole lot more.
Giving what she hoped was a casual grin, she said, "I told you to enjoy the dream then. What's behind those strings is a lot better in fiction than in reality." In real life, she wasn't exactly giving Pamela Anderson a run for her money.
Evan patted the seat on the couch next to him, which she totally ignored. Standing was much safer.
Evan said, "I hate it when you're down on your body." He raised his eyebrows up and down. "You've got great tits, sweet stuff."
That was so close to what she wanted to hear, yet so damn far.
"Well, I haven't made it into the Great Tits Hall of Fame yet," she joked, then could have kicked herself. She shouldn't be extending a conversation that dealt with body parts.
Evan threw his arms over the back of the couch and laughed. Then he shrugged on a grin, causing his chest to ripple in an attractive distraction that made Halley feel like a virgin at a Chippendales strip show.
Inspired. Eager. Amazed.
Then he ruined it by talking. "That's because the nominating committee hasn't seen you right now. Geez, are you cold or just happy to see me?"
Considering it was August and he had no air-conditioning, she would give him only one guess.
"Alright, very funny." Fighting the urge to cover her enthusiastic nipples with her hands, she strode off in the direction of his bedroom, where he kept his computer. "I'd say leave my chest out of the conversation but it's bound to pop up again once you see my website."
Not that she was jealous or anything of those huge melon-dwarfing breasts the hacker had stuck under her chin. Okay, so she was jealous, but only a little. At least she could do gymnastics or ballet if the urge ever struck her. Let's see a D-cup woman do that.
Halley shuddered as she walked into Evan's bedroom. The queen-size bed wasn't made. Gazing at those crumpled, still-warm sheets made her flustered. And aroused.