And if I did, something I ached to do, I wondered what the temperature of her flesh would be. If my fingers went to her pussy, would it be wet?
Would she buck her hips forward, forcing that finger to slip in? Would she continue to dive her pussy down my finger until it was fully inside her?
Those were the questions I wanted answered as I took her in.
Fuck me, she was sexy in anything she wore. Tonight happened to be workout clothes: black leggings that clung to her gorgeous legs, a Bears T-shirt that she’d tied and knotted at her waist, showing off the flatness of her stomach and the curves of her hips. Her long blond hair was in a ponytail on top of her head, her bright-blue eyes wide, aware, and on me.
And while I stared at her best friend, Maya spoke about me, the sound of my name causing my attention to shift to her.
“Gavin, my girl here needs a happily ever after. In other words, she needs a Jordan. So I asked Jordan if he had any single friends we could hook her up with, and you, being single yourself, just so happened to walk in.” Maya smiled.
I got the sense she still didn’t know about Emily and me. I assumed that meant Jordan didn’t either, or he would have mentioned it. Therefore, Maya’s statement was completely innocent.
But I didn’t know how to respond, so I dropped my head, shaking it a few times before I gripped the back of my neck.
“Please ... you guys seriously need to stop.” As I looked at Emily, she was putting her hand over her eyes, like a visor. “I don’t need you to set me up with anyone.”
“Hold on a second. Jordan, we’re being so rude.” Maya pointed at Emily and me. “Do you guys even know each other?” She paused, and neither of us responded. “Em, this is Gavin, Jordan’s brother—”
“We’ve met.” Emily removed her hand from her eyes and slowly glanced up at me.
“I didn’t realize that.” Maya pulled her legs off Jordan’s lap and positioned herself directly next to him, cuddling into his side. “When did you meet?”
“She was in Grandma’s room when I came to visit her the other day.” While holding my neck, my other hand slipped into my pocket. “She told me who she was and connected all the dots.”
I could tell Emily was waiting for me to say more. Perhaps that she had come over to treat Ben, but I wasn’t going there. The second I saidanything about her coming to my place, my brother would take that story and fucking run with it and fill in every blank.
“Ah, perfect,” Maya said. “Glad we’re all acquainted.”
Jordan grabbed Maya’s glass of wine and took a drink. “Since you guys know each other, who do you think would be good for her? We must know someone.” His brow furrowed, telling me he was really thinking about this. “How about Mitch Childers?”
Jesus Christ.
Out of all conversations, why did I have to walk into this one?
“Mitch Childers?” I chuckled as I walked over to his bar to pour several fingers of scotch into a tumbler. I refused to picture Emily with the quarterback’s coach of the Deers. “That motherfucker doesn’t know his ass from his elbow.”
“But he’s a nice guy,” Jordan countered.
I filled the glass higher than I’d planned and returned the bottle to the shelf before I took a seat at the end of the sectional, putting at least five spots between Emily and me. “Who the fuck cares if he’s nice or not. The dude speaks football, nothing else. She’d be asleep within five minutes of their conversation.”
“You’re being a little rough on the guy, aren’t you?”
I stared at my brother like he had six fucking heads. “He’s not right for her. Move on.”
“I just want to make sure ... you do want a nice guy, don’t you, Emily?” Jordan inquired.
Emily tucked her legs to her chest. “As opposed to an asshole? For sure.” She was rubbing her hand over the front of her head, then stilled. “But remember, we’re not setting me up.”
“She doesn’t mean that—the not-setting-up part, I’m talking about.” Maya winked at her friend. “Keep brainstorming, Jordan.”
“Oh shit, I know.” My brother nodded toward me. “Mike Wilson. He’s perfect for her.”
“Why does that name sound familiar?” Maya asked.
Jordan pointed at Emily’s shirt. “She’s already a fan.” He laughed, even though not a single word of this was fucking funny. “He’s the head coach of the Bears.”
I drained a third of my glass. “And someone who wouldn’t be perfect for her.”
