“Irritated because you’re left with me for the night or irritated because your friend is the one who dragged you out tonight and then ditched you?”
“Both,” I say before I can stop myself. “I mean . . . the last one, not both. I don’t mind being here with you. You’re . . . fine and all.”
“Fine and all?” Eli says, looking insulted. “Just fine? You know a lot of people would feel excited to share a drink with me.”
“Yes, of course. All of the people. Including me,” I say, backtracking. “Very excited.” I tap my drink to his. “Cheers to being excited about spending the night together.” I take a sip as a smile passes over his lips. “Wait, I didn’t mean spending the night together like that, you know, like the way you like to spend the night with women . . . naked. I just meant mutually together in a nonsexual way. Strictly platonic. We don’t have sex. That’s not something we do. We barely talk, so sex is definitely not something we do.”
Jesus, Penny, stop talking.
I take a large gulp of my drink.
But then . . . I keep going.
“Not that it would be bad sex,” I continue for God knows what reason. The nerves, and that three-piece suit—and the no socks, his ankles seem so dreamy—the combination is shaking me to my very core. “I’m pretty good at sex—at least that’s what I convince myself of. I mean, probably not as good as you because it seems like you get a lot of practice in, if that’s what you want to call it. I’ve had a few partners, one long term, and he was pretty good. We enjoyed sharing a little romp, you know.” I elbow him as he just stares at me, his expression full of humor. “Anyway . . .” I blow out a long breath. “You’re probably wishing you walked away with Blakely.”
“No.” He continues to grin. “This is right where I want to be. You are more than entertaining.”
“I’m babbling. That’s what happens when I’m nervous. I babble. And oh God, I can’t believe I just told you that I’m nervous. Not that talking to you about my sex life is better. I just wish that you would stop me from talking so I don’t keep going on and on like this.” When he doesn’t say anything and instead takes a sip from his beer, I say, “Please say something, anything. Put me out of my misery.”
He chuckles, a deep throaty sound that vibrates through my bones. “Why would I want to do that when clearly this is the best company I’ve had in years?”
“Because you’re cruel.”
“Nah, I just like seeing you squirm, which makes me ask, why the hell are you nervous?”
Yeah, why are you nervous, Penny?
Oh, I don’t know, maybe because he’s a six-foot-four piece of studliness, and I’m not used to being this close to perfection. Maybe because Blakely wants me tobedthis man, and now that’s all I can think about. Maybe because I wasn’t planning on being on my best behavior tonight, but here I am, trying to be professional . . . ehhh, professional would not be the correct term, especially after the sex talk.
“I don’t know,” I say instead. “Are you nervous?”
“No, why would I be nervous?”
“Uh . . . the pressure of Valentine’s Day?” I shrug.
“Never celebrate it, you know, because I’m always celebrating my birthday.”
“Right . . . right.” I glance at my drink. “You know, I think I’m going to need another one of these.”
“Then drink up.” He winks, and I swear my uterus flutters.
What on earth is happening to me? Is it because it’s Valentine’s Day, and the added romance in the air is playing with my head? Because I’ve had one-on-one’s with Eli before. Granted, they’ve been quick, and I had a task, but still, I didn’t stumble around like I am now.
Not to mention, when I’d look him in the eyes while working, he never studied my lips or grinned the way he is now, nor did he ever give me a once-over.
So what’s so different about tonight?
ChapterTwo
ELI
I remember the moment I first met Penny Lawes. She was an intern, and Pacey was showing her around. We ran into each other in the hallway, right outside the locker room. I made some offhanded comment about Pacey bringing girls around the locker room and asked him if he was starting his own Brentwood Baseball tradition—they are known for taking the girls back to the locker room. His eyes grew murderous as he said, through a very clenched jaw, that the girl next to him was his sister.
You could imagine my surprise.
I mean . . . Pacey is a good-looking guy if you’re into the long, curly-blond-hair look, but his sister. . . Jesus fuck.
Hot.
