“Oh?” I trail a finger down her side, letting my hand come to rest on her hip, just inside the waistband of her yoga pants. I never realized how sexy those things are. Or maybe it’s that Brie is sexy in whatever she wears. She could be in one of those shapeless 1950s housedresses and my dick would stand up and salute. “Is it aFifty Shadessort of something else?”
Not my usual cinematic fare. But with Brie, it might be fun to watch. And I wouldn’t mind if it led to a little Christian Grey/Anastasia Steele role play.
Yeah, I know the characters’ names. I even read a couple of chapters of the book—the first one—to see what all the fuss was about. I still don’t get it. But women sure do.
Brie gives my hand a playful smack, hard enough to sting a little but not to swat it away. “Has anyone ever told you that you have a one-track mind?”
“Yeah, but I’m pretty sure they meant it as a compliment.”
“Only a guy would think that.”
I stretch my legs out in front of me, settling in for the next few hours of whatever the heck it is we’re going to watch. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t particularly care what it is. As long as I’m watching it with her. “So noPrincess Brideand noFifty Shades. What do you suggest?”
Before she can answer, my phone dings with an incoming text. I grab it from the table next to me and check the screen, making sure it’s not an emergency at the club. Like the time Jake got himself knocked on his ass playing knight in shining armor for Ainsley.
R u home? Is my sister there? Ainsley’s been trying 2 reach her. Something about going dress shopping 4 the wedding.
“Everything okay?” Brie asks.
“It’s your brother. He says your future sister-in-law is trying to get in touch with you. She wants to you to go wedding dress shopping with her.”
She scrunches up her nose. It’s fucking adorable. “I left my cell in my bedroom. Can you tell him I’ll call her back tomorrow?”
I type out a quick response and put my phone back on the table. “Now, about that movie—”
“I was kind of hoping we could watchCaptain America.”
“Which one? There’s three, you know.”
“The first one.”
“Let me guess,” I say, half teasing, half serious. “You’ve got a thing for Chris Evans.”
“Who doesn’t? Objectively, he’s one damn fine-looking specimen. But that’s not why I picked that movie.”
She twists sideways and puts her legs in my lap. As sexy as her yoga pants are, I almost resent them now. Without them, I’d be able to run my hand down her bare skin, feel the goosebumps rise wherever I touch.
“Then why?”
“We’ve finished shooting my origin story and we’re moving into the superhero scenes. I have a stunt double for the tough stuff, but I figure a little kick-butt inspiration couldn’t hurt.”
“If you really want to be inspired, you need an education in kick-ass female superheroes. Like Wonder Woman. Or Captain Marvel.”
“You’re the one who had a stash of comic books under your bed as a kid. You choose.”
“You knew about that?” I saved my allowance to buy them then hid them from my father, who hated anything related to nerd culture.
“My brother has a big mouth.” Brie hops off my lap. “I’ll get us some snacks while you decide.”
She goes to the kitchen to pop some microwave popcorn, and I queue upCaptain Marvel. Yes, she’s not as well known as Wonder Woman. But unlike mythical Amazon warrior Diana Prince—aka Wonder Woman—Carol Danvers, Captain Marvel’s alter ego, is an actual human being, with human flaws and strengths in addition to her superpowers. For Brie, it makes her character more well-rounded and relatable. Ergo, inspirational.
The opening credits are starting to roll when my phone chimes with another text. I pause the movie and curse Jake out under my breath for interrupting us again. But when I check my phone, it’s not Jake who’s texting this time. It’s my father.
I’ll be in town on Friday to meet with my publisher. I’d like to see you. Dinner at the Polo Bar. 8:00.
It’s a demand, not a request. Typical Vincent Dow.
Brie plops back down next to me, a huge bowl of popcorn in her arms. She tosses a piece in the air and catches it in her mouth. “If that’s my brother again, tell him to focus on his future wife and leave me alone.”
