What the hell is she doing in that flimsy tank top with nothing underneath? It’s taking every ounce of self-control to keep my eyes trained on the TV screen and not where they want to go.
For now, I have to focus. At least the movie is good. And the pizza is fine, although what I want to be tasting is between her legs.
Fuck.
My focus lasted all of five seconds.
New plan.
Maybe some conversation will help take my mind off all the filthy thoughts running rampant through my brain.
“So, uh, have you seen this one before?” I jerk my chin toward the screen, where the main character is scaling the side of a building with ease.
Maren nods, her mouth full of pizza. She wipes the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand, just like I imagine she would after sucking me off.
For fuck’s sake! Get it together, Hayes.
“Are you kidding? It’s a classic,” she says after swallowing, crossing her legs underneath her.
My brows rise with surprise. “I didn’t take you for a superhero movie buff.”
She shrugs. “When you grow up with Wolfie for a brother . . .”
I grunt in understanding, and a comfortable silence falls between us. The talking is helping, so I try to think of something else to say.
“So, how are you—” I say, just as she says, “I was wondering—”
Maren giggles and nods at me, but I wave her on.
“No, you go.”
“I was going to ask about the caterers. Any luck?”
Right. Shop talk. The reason I’m here.
Saving her place of employment that’s also very near and dear to her heart is the goal, and of course, that’s where her mind’s at right now. I’m the only one who can’t keep his mind out of the gutter for more than two seconds.
“Yeah, I got some good leads. Here, take a look.” I pull my computer from the coffee table and into my lap.
Maren climbs up onto the couch next to me and nestles into my side. Thank God for the two pounds of plastic and metal in my lap, which is all that’s saving me from a world of sin right now.
We scroll through the fruits of my labor while a fight scene plays in the background. Maren makes small sounds of approval at each website, which only makes it harder to keep my cool.
“These are incredible,” she says, clutching my arm tighter and pressing her cheek into my shoulder. “Thank you so much, Hayes. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”
I can think of about a million ideas . . . “Don’t mention it. I’m happy to help.”
I put my laptop away again—the new laptop I had to buy to replace the one Sam tossed onto the sidewalk.
The feeling of making Maren happy, of helping her when she needs it? It just might be better than sex. Not that I don’t want to test that theory out before drawing any conclusions.
She lets go of my arm and throws her head back on the couch with a sigh of relief. “I feel so much better already,” she says happily. “Don’t get me wrong, there’s plenty more to do, but it feels like things are looking up in all aspects of my life.”
“Yeah? Even, uh . . .” I nod my head to her lap, and she stares back at me blankly. “You’re feeling better . . . down there too?” I shift my gaze briefly to her leggings before meeting her eyes.
A pretty blush creeps over her cheeks and down her neck. She tries to suppress a smile and looks at the floor, shifting in her seat. “It’s still a little tender. But yeah, it’s almost all healed up.”
I can still kiss it better. “Good. I was worried.”
“You were worried about my . . . down there?”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. “No, I mean—in a medical sense. I just want you to be safe and healthy, dove.”
“Oh. Right.” Her chest stutters with an inhale.
My voice drops lower. “Burns should be taken seriously. Especially on . . . delicate parts of the body.” Why the hell am I still talking?
“You didn’t say anything to my brother, did you?”
“Of course not.”
She sighs, blowing out a slow breath. “He’d never let me hear the end of it.”
You and me both.
There’s no telling exactly what Wolfie would do or how he’d react if he found out his best friend and his kid sister were talking about the state of her pussy, but something tells me he wouldn’t be too stoked.
“What he doesn’t know won’t—”
I stop mid-sentence. Maren isn’t listening to me. She’s pretending to watch the movie. But really, she’s curled up in a ball with her head in her hands, tears welling up in her eyes and her shoulders shaking.
“Dove, what’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry. I’m just so embarrassed,” she whispers. “First the waxing accident, and now Riverside. You must think I’m a mess.” She swipes at the corners of her eyes, giving me a sad look that devastates me.
“Come here.”
I pull her into me, looping my arm around her shoulders, and she lays her head on my chest. It breaks me to hear her talk about herself that way. Maren’s the last person who should be feeling guilty about anything. And I want to make sure she knows it.
“I’m here because I want to be, okay? Not because I feel bad, and certainly not because I pity you. You’re strong, smart, and beautiful. Shit happens, and we all need a little help sometimes.”
“You really think I’m beautiful?” she asks, sniffling.
Fuck. This girl will be the death of me.
I smirk, trying to downplay how spectacularly I just stuck my foot in my mouth. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
We stay like that for the rest of the movie, Maren with her head on my chest, and me doing my best to train the crouching tiger in my pants. It didn’t take long for her to stop crying and relax into me. Let’s just say tonight proved she’s really not big on personal space.
If Maren knew all the ways I’ve fantasized about taking her—pushing her hard up against a wall, bending her curvy ass over a table—she’d be horrified. She certainly wouldn’t come willingly into my arms, or hang all over me like I’m her personal jungle gym.
I know a lot about women, both from my time in the dating scene and because of my job. But I don’t know much about matters of the heart. The human heart confounds me. Like, how can I feel so many things for Maren, but be too chickenshit to do anything about them?
Shortly after the movie ends, I rise to my feet and Maren walks me to the door.
“Thanks for coming over tonight.”
I nod, trying not to look at her chest. Yeah, lingering would only leave more time for temptation. “Of course. It’s actually helping me too, you know.”
“How’s being here helping you?” She shoots me a questioning look.
I shift, suddenly wishing I hadn’t said anything. But now that I have, I know Maren won’t drop it, so I might as well be honest. “With my self-imposed break from dating, I have more free time on my hands.”
Maren’s expression turns thoughtful, and she nods. “We can help each other then.”
“I’d like that.” As the words leave my mouth, I realize they’re absolutely true.
Her lips part, breaking into a happy grin. “You sure you’re not going to mind when I point out all the ways you absolutely suck as a boyfriend?”