“Sure,” I murmur, doing everything in my power to keep my eyes off her chest and my dick from springing to attention in my sweatpants.
The wet fabric of her top, now slightly translucent andclinging to every curve, reveals the lace pattern of what looks like a blue bra underneath.
My mouth goes dry as I try to focus on anything else—the ceiling, the floor, the barista.
How fucking shiny Lizzy’s hair is.
“Guess I’ll see you around.”
My eyes flick up to hers. “Yeah. See you.”
Then she turns, full hips swaying as I stand in the middle of the coffee shop like a fucking idiot, staring at her round, perfect ass as she walks out the door.
twenty-one
“Okay, seriously,”Claire says, throwing down her cards with a triumphant grin. “Full house, ladies. Pay up.”
I groan as I watch my stash of mini candy bars dwindle even further. At this rate, I’ll be leaving Sasha’s place empty-handed. Not that I’m complaining. After the week I’ve had, girls’ night is exactly what I needed.
“You’re definitely counting cards,” I accuse, tossing a mini Twix across the table.
Claire winks, gathering her winnings with a sweep of her arm. “It’s not my fault you all have such obvious tells.”
“I don’t have a tell,” Noia protests, curling a strand of hair around her finger.
“You literally twist your hair around your finger when you have a good hand,” Reyna points out, and we all burst out laughing as Noia’s hand freezes mid-twirl.
Sasha shuffles the deck, a lock of red hair falling over one eye. “So, Lizzy, how’s your new neighbor situation working out? Any more run-ins with Hollywood’s sexiest bad boy?”
I haven’t seen or spoken to Rowan in a couple of days. Notsince our literal run-in at Bean & Co. My guess is he’s busy filming. I have heard him coming and going a couple of times though. Even caught myself waiting for the sound of his footsteps. Not that I’d ever admit it to these crazy chicks. I’d never hear the end of it.
When I told them at brunch the other day what went down with Rowan in the hallway, Sasha almost choked on her mimosa. With her having had a similar situation with Jax, she found that tidbit of information more than hilarious.
I roll my eyes, reaching for my beer. “How about we don’t call him that.”
“But heissexy,” Noia says, waggling her eyebrows. “Like, objectively speaking.”
“Objectively speaking, I’d rather not talk about him,” I mutter, but I know my friends too well to think even for a second they’ll drop it.
“Might as well give it up,” Claire prods, unwrapping a mini York Peppermint Patty. “You’ve been avoiding the subject all night. And you know we’re not gonna let up until you do.”
Resigned, I let out an exasperated sigh, picking at the label on my beer bottle. “There’s nothing to tell. I’ve been actively avoiding him, and it’s been working out great so far.”
“For how long, though?” Sasha asks, dealing the cards. “Kinda hard when you live across the hall from each other.”
“I’m very good at avoiding people when I want to,” I snark defensively, snatching the cards she tosses my way off the table.
“Yeah, because that’s healthy,” Reyna snorts.
“If you’re so adamant about not having him around, maybe you should figure out a way to get him so annoyed that he’d rather go back to sleeping on your brother’s couch, instead of living across the hall,” Sasha suggests, eyeing her cards with a smirk.
I consider her idea for a moment. “What, like blasting death metal at three in the morning?”
“Or,” Noia chimes in, “you could just talk to him like an adult, like he offered, and get some closure.”
“Whose side are you on?” I ask, shooting her a glare.
“Yours, obviously,” she says, arranging her cards. “But I also think you’re being a bit stubborn.”
