Fling. Flingy-fling.
Blair snorted and released a long cackle that sounded a bit like a goose. It made me like her even more. “She was a pill. I tell ya, I know Harrison can be a real crank-ster, but there’s a lot of good under there, and she didn’t want to work hard enough to find it.”
“I can relate to that.”
“What’s that? You? I’ve known you a whole sixty seconds, and I know not a single soul thinks you’re cranky. Literally, the word doesn’t even belong in the same sentence as you.”
I blushed. “No, I meant… well, I’m definitely notcranky. I meant, a lot of the guys I date or get set up with never care to work hard enough to get to know me. They see bits and pieces and assume I’m different or odd. What almost thirty-year-old wants to live in a house with college girls?”
“Different is so much better than boring.”
I held up my mug and touched it to hers. “Thank you. Can you call my mom and tell her that? I’d appreciate it.”
We laughed just as Harrison came back upstairs with little Gabby on his shoulders. She had his same dark, messy hair, and another unwelcome thought of him with kids intruded. His kids would surely have dark hair and big smiles. He’d teach them to play football, too.
He deposited Gabby onto a large blue couch and headed toward our bags. “What room should we be in, B?”
Blair blinked, her expression nervous. “You’re in the computer room with the air mattress, Becca is in the guest room.”
Harrison’s entire face went from joyful to unamused so fast that I bit down on my knuckle to prevent giggles from escaping. He pretty much just told the world we were sleeping together, and instead of being embarrassed, I found it pretty dang funny.
“Blair,” he scolded.
“Harrison.”
He hardened his stare at his sister, but she was unfazed. “I’ll put our stuff in the guest room.”
“Can’t have you do that. What kind of message would it send my innocent children? You’re their uncle, and he can’t be sharing a room with afriend.”
Oh my goodness.My face burned at her insinuation, and I began counting tiles on the floor instead of watching his face. We were friends. Maybe. Well, we had to be. We’d slept together.Oh, snap. I’m sweating.
“Becca, want to help me?” His tone was too playful.
Did I miss a joke?
“Hmm?” I said.
“Walk me upstairs.”
“Why are you smirking like that? Did I miss something? Your face looks funny.” I set the mug down as Gabby and Blair laughed.
“He does look funny. Is that a smile, Gabs? What do you think?” Blair teased, and her daughter laughed harder.
“It is! He’s smiling!” I gasped. “Take a picture!”
“Okay, enough.” Harrison took my hand and dragged me upstairs. “First them, and now you? All the jokes. I swear… am I that damn grumpy?”
“Maybe?”
He tossed our bags into a bedroom containing nothing more than a large bed and two side tables. Then, shutting the door, he pressed me up against it. Suddenly, I wasn’t feeling amused.
“Tell me, Becca.” He leaned in, breathing the words into my ear. “Do you want to share a room with me tonight?”
“The children!” I lost my motivation to tease him when he dragged his lips down my neck. “Oh. Oh my.”
He grazed my earlobe with his teeth, pulling on it while gripping my sides with his large hands. “I’ve been a little spoiled lately, and we’re—technically—still in oursnow-pocalypse fling.”
“Hmm?” I moaned, arching my back and giving him more access to my neck. Every part of my body tingled at his touch—and after seeing him with kids, I wanted to climb him like a tree.
