Lucy blinks at me over her coffee mug. “Thetrashcans?”
I drop into the chair across from her. “Yup. Real bonding moment. Nothing says boyfriend material like taking out the garbage half dressed.”
She bites her lip, trying not to laugh. “And? What’s the verdict?”
I rub the stubble along my jaw. “The verdict is—Ithinkhe likes me. Or at the very least, doesn’t actively want to murder me for sleeping with you.”
Lucy raises a skeptical eyebrow. “That’s a good thing.”
“I’ll take what I can get.” I gesture toward the back door. “He basically said Iseemall right but reserves the right to change his mind at any time.”
“Love that for him.”
Wow. She is seriously something else ...
Cutthroat.
“According to your dad, you’re the real threat. If I screw up,you’llhandle me—not him.”
She laughs. “That sounds accurate.”
“And he told me to put on a shirt.” I let out a long, dramatic sigh. “Basically I’m on thin ice forever.”
Lucy winks. “Welcome to dating me.”
“At least he didn’t give me any rules to follow.”
Lucy taps her chin, pretending to think. “Hmm. Rules might be a littleformal—but Idolove the idea of a penalty system.”
I arch an eyebrow. “Penalty system?”
“Yeah,” she says casually. “Like, if you put on a shirt again, you owe me a back rub. And if you ever try to mansplain football to me, you owe me dessert.” Mansplain? I would never. “If you say something cocky, you have to ...”
“Go down on you? Deal. Where do I sign?”
Lucy chokes on her coffee, coughing as she sets the mug down. “Wow. You agreed to that a little too quickly.”
I grin, completely unapologetic. “Trying to be ateamplayer.”
She wipes a stray drop of coffee from her lip, eyes twinkling with amusement. “You do realize penalties are meant to discourage certain behaviors, right?”
I shrug. “Sounds more like positive reinforcement to me.”
Who wouldn’t want to go down on her? Her pussy is sublime.
Speaking of which . . .
I push back my chair and stand, then round the table before she has a chance to react.
“What are you—” she starts, but I don’t let her finish.
I scoop her up effortlessly, one arm under her knees, the other around her back. She lets out a squeal of surprise, smacking my chest.
“Youcannotpick me up whenever you want.”
“Pretty sure I can,” I say, grinning down at her. “It’s part of the penalty system. Immediate consequences.”
She laughs, looping her arms around my neck. “Oh, so now you get to decide punishments?”
