“I’ve been thinking about it. There are so many new fitness regimens that have evolved, I’d have to attend some classes.” The enthusiasm in her voice and smile on her face brings hope that she will.
Taking another bite of my sandwich, “you should,” I agree before chewing.
“Robbie, don’t talk with your mouth full,” she chastises and I roll my eyes, bringing a laugh out of her. “What about you? Tell me something good.”
Brown bouncy curls and pajama pants rush to my mind immediately, but I’m not sure I’m ready to share her with my mom yet. I know she’d be excited and probably a little too hopeful. I’m not even sure why because Paige will be a good fuck, but I have to remind myself that’s it. I like my heart cold because with warmth it morphs too similar to glass which makes it too easy to shatter again. I made the mistake of bringing Jessa home, and then when she got too close and my feelings became too real, I threw her away. It was embarrassing having to dodge my mom’s questions about Jessa and what happened for several months. Because Jessa deserved better than what I ever gave her. I now know I have to be positive the next girl is a sure thing before my mom’s already scorned heart becomes invested. “Um . . . I won my race last week. One thousand big ones in my pocket.”
Disappointment roots in her face. “Robbie, I know you won’t listen to me, but be careful.”
“I will—I am.” My assurance appeases her for now.
“I’m glad that you have a good in your life though.” She sips her iced tea. I’m sure she remembers the days when only darkness filled both of our lives.
Me too.
I GRAB THE remote off the table to up the volume on the television to mask Chrissy’s moans of pleasure upstairs. Doesn’t the girl know how to be quiet? As if he has the keen nose of a dog, and can sniff out sex, Rob intrudes in on my solace and plops down on the armchair next to the couch. I peer over to him and then focus back to the Hotel Rescue show.
“This is right up your alley, huh?” He extends his legs out to the coffee table and crosses his ankles.
Propping up on my elbow, I rest my head in my palm. “Yeah, I love this guy.” I point to the bald, no-nonsense guy that’s in charge of the renovation.
“I’ve never seen this one.” He inches closer to hear.
“Shit, again? I swear those two never give it a rest.” He comes over, snatches the remote and then picks up my legs, eliciting a flutter in my belly and sits down.
After he positions my legs back over his lap, he turns up the volume. His eyes never veer my way. It’s comfortable and intimate the way we’re sitting. Knowing he’s probably trying to warm me up to his bed, especially hearing Chrissy’s cries for more to Dex upstairs, I begin to scoot up. His hand clamps down on my legs, halting my movement. “Friends, right?” He winks and those blue eyes are so crystal clear, you can’t miss the torment that swims in them.
“Yeah,” I mumble and relax into the couch. I try to concentrate on the television. How the owners have neglected their property and Mr. Bald man fights to fix it, but all I can focus on is Rob’s thumb massaging mindless circles on my calf. His caressing is nice and gentle, as though he’s perfectly content and doesn’t realize he’s even doing it.
Ten minutes later, Dex barrels down the stairs with basketball shorts on and a bare chest. He’s muscular, bulky, and tattooed. Good-looking for sure, but not my type. I prefer the lean muscle, like the guy whose fingertips are giving me goose bumps right now. When he stops in the doorway, I chance a glance toward Rob. His relaxed muscles still defined with his T-shirt tight along his biceps. He’s my type and God would I love to screw him, but there’s no way I’ll set myself up for failure. Guys like Rob only stay interested until you give them what they want.
“What are you two doing?” Dex asks, bringing me back to the present.
“What does it look like?” Rob’s hand never stops the motion on my calf and when I attempt to slide my legs out, he grips them tighter to keep them in place.
“Looks like you’re about to piss Chrissy off.” His eyebrows arch. “I just thoroughly fulfilled her every wish, so I’d like it to stay that way for awhile.” His fingertips grip the frame of the door and his body leans into the room. His muscles are impressive; I’m not going to lie.
“Obviously, if she’s not in complete exhaustion on your bed and unable to get up, you didn’t do too good of a job.” Dex shakes his head and then steps into the room and picks up a pillow from the chair, throwing it at Rob’s head.
The two of them chuckle and then Dex struts into the kitchen. “Hey, grab me a beer,” Rob calls out and then spins in my direction. “Do you want anything?”
“Sure . . . a beer.” I figure with no classes tomorrow, I’ll indulge.
“Paige, too.”
Dex comes back in with the beers in his hand. “Thanks.” Then he departs the room just as quickly, running back up the stairs.
“You invested in this show?” Rob asks and I face him, knowing an idea is swarming in his brain as he moves to sit up.
“No, why?” I cautiously ask, fearing I’m setting myself up for a sexual advance.
“You want to play a little rummy?”
“You mean a card game?” I clarify because I didn’t peg Rob as a guy who lounged around on a Saturday night, playing cards.
“Yeah. Do you know how to play?”
“I do, but I guess—never mind. Sure.” My legs slide out from his calloused palms and he never moves until my feet clear his body. He’s stepping up his game and from the heat between my legs, it’s working.
Rob flicks off the television, digging into a drawer and then we venture to the kitchen. He shuffles the cards and I grab a piece of paper and pen from our junk drawer. “So, how often do you play this game?” I narrow my eyes to get an idea of how easy I should go with him.
“I don’t think I’ve played since I was twelve.” He shuffles like a pro, bridging the cards and allowing them to fall in his hands.
“For some reason, I don’t believe you.” I open the pantry door and grab a bag of my microwave popcorn. “You don’t strike me as the kind of guy who doesn’t have motives two steps before his actions.”
He laughs. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”
“I know I’m right.”
I place the package in the microwave and press the button. “I’m a little surprised you’re missing your signature apparel this evening,” Rob comments, and when I swivel around, he’s leaned back in his chair, his fingers strumming along the table. This incredible sexual response comes over me, that he was admiring me going about doing a mundane task. The pleasure brings so much warmth through my veins, I wish he was mine and I could saunter over and straddle his lap. I ache to grind against the hardness I created, as his hands would find my ass.
Instead, I swallow the urge. “Oh, well, laundry day.”
He nods, his eyes moving up my legs. “I’m not sure which one I prefer.”
I laugh. “Really? Pajama pants with absurd expressions are your things?”
“Not usually, but on you they are.” My breathing stops before sputtering back up. Our eyes meet and an unbearable inner excitement flows through me. The more I swim in the blues of his eyes, the more he spins me in his web of magnetism. Just as I’m about to ignore my mind’s resistance, I jolt from the beep of the microwave and quickly spin on my heels. Grabbing the bag, I toss it back and forth in my hands because it’s so hot.
Rob laughs behind me and then the chair legs scrape along the floor and his footsteps thump behind me. “Let me help you.” He relieves the burn in my hands, opening the two corners. Steam rushes out of the bag and I grab a bowl to pour it into. We accomplish the menial job together as a team. He’s about to retreat back to the table, when he stops, leaning forward. “I like that I give you that reaction.” He whispers and I lick my lips out of reflex.