I pulled open the oven door to check on the reheating progress. “Great. I’ve been dying to check out this new dating reality show. I think season two just came out, so we can binge for hours. The couples don’t get to see each other at first. They have to talk through a wall or something. And I—”
A yelp ripped out of my throat when the towel hit my ass. It wasn’t enough to hurt, but it scared the living daylights out of me.
“Smart-ass,” Jonah murmured.
I whirled on him. “How dare you?”
He was grinning ear to ear. “You’re such an easy target.”
“And you’re a giant bully.”
“Only to you,” he said, as charming as ever. “But that’s probably because you make it so easy.”
“Only a bully would blame the victim they’re bullying for being a bully.” I pulled the food out and lined it up on the stove. Spinning around, I threw out a smug, “That’s what we call gaslighting.”
He twisted the kitchen towel in his hand like he wanted to snap me with it again. In an effort to literally save my poor ass, I pounced on him, capturing his wrists in my hands. My fingers couldn’t even touch. His bones were too big. And the muscles flexed beneath my hands, reminding me it would take almost nothing for him to break my makeshift handcuffs.
He laughed at my effort to restrain him. Somehow, the momentum of me moving and him trying to avoid me brought us together. My hands still wrapped around his wrists at my hips. My chest against his. His chin brushed the top of my head. And there I was, just staring at the hollow of his throat, watching his pulse thump.
“Do you honestly think you can stop me?” he threatened, his voice all low and rumbly.
“Easily.” I was going for bravado. But my voice came out stupidly breathy.
He tugged lightly at my grip, and I was powerless to stop both his hands from escaping. In one fluid motion, he wrapped one arm around my lower back, caging me against him. And with his other, he pulled back his hand and slapped my ass. No towel this time. Just his hand on my butt.
I let out another outraged yelp and glared at him. He grinned down at me, all sex and forgotten crushes. And he didn’t push me away. His arm stayed wrapped around my back. I could feel the imprint of his hand along my side. The other one splayed where it had landed on my ass. His laughter gentled. And his eyes did that softening thing again.
For a second, I let it happen. I let myself fall into the fantasy I’d had more times than I wanted to admit. I licked my lips and held his gaze and imagined what it would be like to rise on my toes and kiss him.
And in that same hypnotic second, I knew he did the same to me. His head dipped toward mine. His breathing stuttered in his chest. He wanted to kiss me.
Could hardly stand not kissing me.
“You’re an irreverent flirt,” I accused, stomping on the breathless moment with the heel of my Mary Jane. “Honestly, it’s amazing someone hasn’t filed a lawsuit against you.”
I patted his cheek with more force than was necessary and stepped back. Disappointment clouded his expression so dark and stormy I wondered if he’d even bother to stay and hang out. “What?” he gasped, struggling to recover. And keep the darkness out of his voice. “Most girls aren’t mad at me, Liza. They’re all into that. Just because you’re the one female on the planet seemingly immune to my charm doesn’t mean you need to blame me. Now, who’s gaslighting who?”
I snorted and reached for the plates on the other side of the kitchen. “I hope you’re not going around smacking girls’ asses and calling it charm.”
“Sometimes they like it.”
I threw a raised eyebrow look over my shoulder. “Sometimes? That’s hardly a pristine résumé.” After dividing equal portions of all the food, I moved to grab forks only to find he’d already gotten them.
He held one wrapped in a paper towel out to me. “You do know I don’t go around sexually harassing women, right?”
“My experience tells me that isn’t true.”
“You don’t count. You’re not a woman.”
His words landed like a punch in the gut. I wasn’t a woman in Jonah’s mind because I was just the kid sister still begging to tag along. I took the fork and makeshift napkin and headed for the living room.
My heart felt the blow as acutely as my guts. I might not think of Jonah like a brother, but that didn’t mean he didn’t think of me like a little sister. And since we were just friends, I should be okay with that. But then why did it hurt so much?
“Don’t be mad,” he called after me, instantly realizing his mistake. “That’s not what I meant. Obviously, you’re a woman, Eliza. A fucking sexy woman. I just meant...”
“I know what you meant.” My voice was calm, collected, carefully masking the hurt simmering where he couldn’t see it.
He sat down next to me, placing his food on a stack of magazines dating back at least four years. When I could finally afford my own place, I’d naïvely decided I needed magazines on hand for my guests like a real grown-up. So I’d taken my first paycheck from the bar, paid my bills, bought enough ramen to last me through a nuclear holocaust, and spent seventy-five dollars on magazines covering every topic and genre. Basically everything exceptPlayboy.
