“Then, look me in the eye and tell me my designs are crap,” he challenged as he leaned forward. He placed both hands on the edge of his bed, trapping me in-between. I could feel the heat of his arms on my knees.
I forced myself to look at him. “Now, that’d be a lie.”
“And you’re not a liar.”
“I try not to be,” I told him. His eyes were less blue and greener up close.
“Okay, then.” Weston nodded. “Answer me truthfully.”
I tugged on the sleeves of my sweatshirt, giving my trembling fingertips something to do. “Sure.”
“Have you given thought to my offer?” He folded his hands behind his head, watching me closely.
My stomach jumped. “I thought you said there wouldn’t be any shenanigans?”
“And I thought you said you were good with confrontation.”
I bit the inside of my cheek. “Yes, I thought about it… Kind of.”
“And?”
“I don’t think it’s within our best interests,” I confessed with a heavy exhale.
“How do you know anything about my interests?”
I pointed a finger at him. “Exactly. We know nothing about each other. So, it doesn’t make sense to…”
What did he want? Besides the having sex part. It couldn’t just be a one-night stand. Weston’s list -ourlist - of rules seemed to cover more than one night.
“Strangers sleep together all the time. And I didn’t want to just sleep with you,” he said.
“What is it you want?” I dared to ask. “Because I’m confused. You offered to eat me out, but also do favors for other people. I’m not sure how your transactions work but you should know college is the only thing I’m willing to go into debt for. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about anything.”
He laughed and held his hand to his stomach as he did. “You won’t be indebted to me, Cove.”
My skin felt warm at the sound of a nickname passing through his lips. The name sounded soft on his tongue. I kind of enjoyed how he was the first person to shorten my name in such a way. “You’re still calling me by that nickname, by the way.”
“Sorry, it’s difficult to stop once I started referring to you by that name. I’ll work on it.” he said with a nod. “You’re the last person I’d make pay me back. What I want is to be at your beck and call.”
The pounding in my chest was so loud I could barely focus on anything long enough to string together a coherent sentence. Suddenly, I was super conscious of how my armpits felt sweaty and my lips felt chapped. When someone offered to be at your “beck and call” you at least wanted to smell nice and look kissable.
“Those rules,” he continued in a slow, careful voice. “Would be the beginning of an agreement.”
“Am I dreaming?” I managed to say. I had to be. There was no way on God’s green earth a football player with a body built like Michelangelo’sDavidwould want to be in an “on call” relationship. “Because one minute ago we were talking about our project. And, now…”
“We can refocus if that’s what you want?” he offered. He slid his chair back into its original position. Cold air rushed between us and if I didn’t say something soon, the air would make the space feel more like a chasm.
“No,” I said and rubbed my palms on my jeans. “I’m just… I must be dreaming. There’s no way you’d offer to be on call for me. How does that even work?”
He shrugged. “Works however we want it to. Personally, I’m looking for something casual. I’d enjoy satisfying you… any way you want me to.”
I let out a shaky laugh. “I’m definitely the wrong girl for this.”
Never, in my twenty years, had I been inclined to be bossy. I found comfort in following my own set of rules but never subjected them to anyone else. Plus, it’s not like I’d come across anyone willing to listen to me.
“I think you’re perfect for this.” He briefly stretched his arms. “I don’t offer myself and my time to just anyone.”
“I’m not interested in being arm candy… if that’s what you’re after,” I told him.
