He gracefully followed, making it look effortless to lift his body like that.
God, he was hot. He wasn’t as big as Stone, not as tall or as broad, but he was packed with muscle, and she loved to watch the way his body flexed beneath the soft cotton of his T-shirt.
“You two done this before?” Nico asked when he reached the loft.
Stevie moved back, keeping away from the boards along the edge. The rest of the loft was sturdy, and she figured that was Stone’s doing. Or maybe CJ’s or even Chelsea’s. They all used this loft to hang out with their friends. It was no secret that they came up here to make out. Stone had admitted as much the first time he brought her up here, on her birthday last year.
He’d told her that at one point, the loft had been open to the space below—which was why they called it a loft—but Donovan had put up plywood walls for privacy. There was a single window, but the glass was so grimy that not much light filtered through. A string of multi-colored Christmas lights had been secured along the ceiling, which lit the space enough to see and added a bit of ambiance.
“Dowhatbefore?” she asked, crawling over to sit on one of the foam mattresses covering the floor.
There were three, each wrapped in those waterproof covers that zipped around them, the crinkly plastic concealed by colorful fitted sheets. Stone said his mother did that to ensure nothing crawled inside them. It seemed odd that Deborah Jameson was okay with them hanging out up there, especially with mattresses and pillows, but Stevie figured that was because she didn’t know what theyactuallydid while in this space.
As for the potential rodents … that had freaked her out a little, but Stone assured her there weren’t mice in the barn—at least not that he knew of. She’d never seen any, thank God.
Because the hay loft was the official Jameson hangout, it had gained a few items over the years: a television and a stand to hold it, a DVD player, several movies, most of which were no longer in their cases, and even a lava lamp that didn’t work. It needed a new bulb, and no one cared enough to get one.
“Whatever he’s about to do,” Nico answered.
Stevie smiled.
Nico’s eyebrows lowered. “Tell me he doesn’t make you—”
“Make me?” She snorted, meeting his gaze so he would know she was telling the truth. “Stone doesn’tmake medo anything.”
“And you’re okay with this?”
Again, she didn’t know whatthiswas. Not exactly. But she nodded.
“Prove it.”
The directive didn’t come from Nico. It came from Stone as he pulled himself up into the loft. He reached for the square board they used to cover the hole, pulling it toward him until they were sealed in.
“How do I do that?” she asked, smiling as he crawled over to her.
Every time she looked at Stone, Stevie fought the urge to drool. She’d never met a sexier guy in her life. Everything about Stone got her hot and bothered. His dark hair, those hazel eyes that glimmered with mischief. She loved that he was so freaking tall and the layers of muscle that covered his enormous frame. But it was that sexy drawl that made her heart beat harder.
“Strip,” he told her.
Stevie giggled because there was a gleam in his eye. He wasn’t serious, but he wanted Nico to think he was. Before she could say anything, Stone started laughing as he looked at Nico’s wide eyes and unhinged jaw.
“Jesus, man. What? Did you think I was just gonna bring you both up here and fuck you blind?”
Nico’s eyebrows pinched, his gaze shifting between them.
Stevie sat cross-legged on one of the mattresses, grabbing a small pillow and putting it in her lap.
Stone jerked his chin toward the television that sat on an old wooden crate. “We’re gonna watch a movie, dude.”
“Seriously?”
“Don’t tell me you and Chelsea never came up here just to hang out.”
Nico’s eyes widened.
“Really? Y’all never just chilled?”
Nico shook his head.
