A laugh bursts out of me.
“Laugh it up, but it’s true,” he continues. “No matter how many classes you teach, things will go wrong. So, plan for it. If you think a discussion in class will take twenty minutes, plan what will happen if it takes twice that time or half that time. Students will always screw it up for you.”
“You make the work sound rewarding,” I scoff.
He drops back onto the bed again, smiling up at me from his lounging position and my stomach starts up a gymnastics routine. “It’s the best job in the world. And the worst.”
“Your insight’s been so helpful,” I say, shaking my head at his proud little grin.
I push off the bed, and we settle into a comfortable silence. I start folding the clothes again, trying to judge if this stack will fit in my last suitcase. Colton eyes them skeptically, too.
“Did you know there’s this cool invention in Rome?” he asks. “You put clothes into it, and it makes them clean.”
I toss a piece of clothing at him. “Fuck off. It’s a lot, but it’s hard to find cute plus-size clothes. I don’t want to need a certain type of outfit and not be able to find something that looks good. I’m covering all activities.”
He lifts the article I threw at him, and I realize too late what it is. His fingers pinch the straps of a babydoll nightie as it spills down toward the bed. I can barely make out his face through the sheer lace cups and the blanket of embroidered material that would fall just far enough to give me some modesty, if there were any real coverage to the white fabric.
His lace-obscured eyebrows lift, a smirk playing on his lips. “Planning foreverytype of activity, are we?”
My eyes go wide. “I didn’t mean to throw that at you.”
I lunge for the fabric, but he’s quicker, shuffling off the other side of the bed and holding it up again.
“Too late. Tell me, Chaos. Are you looking for an Italian fling?”
Now that he mentioned it, an Italian fling is exactly what I need. I’ve barely dated this past year. No one could seem to keep my attention past a date or two, and while I don’t want a relationship, I could use some regular tension relief.
I laugh, scrambling after him. “You’re such a dick. I’m probably not even going to take it.”
He pushes back into the small space between my bed and the wallas I round the bed to reach him. He lifts the negligee in front of his face and raises his voice an octave. He affects an accent, more Scarlet O’Hara begging Rhett to stay than his old mountain man charm.
“Please, Quinn. I’ve always wanted to see the beauty of Italy. Don’t leave me behind.”
“I hate you so much.”
“Notsomuch. Only a little.”
I shake my head and go to yank it from his hands. He pulls back, making me stumble into his body. He places a hand on my hip to steady me, and I gasp, that hazy awareness I’ve felt over the past year suddenly bursting into high definition. My gaze runs down to where we both still clutch the cloth, before jumping up to his eyes again. His lips twitch, not a full smile, but his eyes dance at how clearly flustered I was.
Tingles shoot through my limbs, and I let him tow me another inch closer with the fabric. My heart thuds so loudly I’m sure he can hear it. His eyes never leave mine.
“Bring it, Quinn.” His voice is smooth, like that first sip of limoncello that somehow both warms your body and sends a shiver through you.
I gulp, still unable to look away. “I don’t know if I like how it looks.”
He quirks an eyebrow. “Need another opinion? Maybe you should try it on.”
I’m out of my depth here. He’s messing with me. He isdefinitelymessing with me.
Right?
A part of me wants to call his bluff. To strut out in nothing but this wisp of lace and see how well he holds up then. I won’t do it, but I’ll enjoy watching that smirk wiped from his face when he thinks I’m going to.
I lift my chin. “Good idea.”
I’m not prepared for his reaction. He flies right past shock,too fast for me to even savor the victory, and straight to a pure hunger that shoots through me. His eyes slide down from my face, lighting me up every place he looks. I take an unsteady breath as he takes his bottom lip between his teeth.
His challenging gaze finds mine again. “Get to it, then.”
