I Flipping Love You (Shacking Up 3) - Page 52


“It was a pain in my butt. Are you coming up or what? I need to lie down. The world feels like a Tilt-A-Whirl.” I have to use the railing for balance. Yeah. I’m definitely drunk. Stupid shots.

Pierce closes and locks the door, following me to my bedroom.

“I have to pee,” I announce, then disappear into the bathroom. I unleash a tsunami, brush my teeth, but don’t bother to wash off my makeup. Pierce is still sitting on the edge of my bed when I return. I strip down to my panties while he watches, then cover back up with a long, grubby shirt. It’s not dirty, it’s just old and covered in stains. I climb into bed and pull the pillow over my head. I’m not sure what Pierce is doing, and I don’t really care. All that much.

The bed dips and suddenly I feel his body mold itself around mine.

“I was serious about your hand being the only action you’re getting this weekend,” I mutter from under the six-inch fabric-and-foam barricade.

Pierce lifts the pillow. “What was that?”

“Yesterday. I was serious. You don’t get to pull the gnomery and still get the perks of my lady garden.” I fight a laugh, because I think I’m actually kind of funny right now.

I elbow him in the ribs, causing him to loosen his grip. I lean over the side of the bed and nab one of the decorative pillows from the floor, shoving it between us. “Rub yourself on that.”

“Are you really that mad at me? You got what you wanted, didn’t you? Sold the house for over asking. Is the blockade really necessary?” He doesn’t try to move it out of the way, despite it probably being uncomfortable.

“I’m not mad. I’m tired and drunk, and I want to sleep and you rubbing your penis against my rear makes that difficult.”

“I won’t rub myself on you. And I’m tired as fuck too. I’ve been waiting since midnight. My girlfriend wouldn’t tell me where she was.”

My heart clenches a little at being called his girlfriend. “I told you I was with Marley.”

“But not where. I went to every single bar on the beach, looking for you.”

“We didn’t go to the beach.”

“Yeah. I figured that out eventually, after I gave up messaging you and tried Marley instead. I was worried.”

“About what?”

“About some guy that isn’t me making a move on you. About me not being clear enough with you about what this is. I’m not seeing anyone else. I don’t want to see anyone else.”

“We went out dancing. That was it.” Now I’m all swoony and sappy, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“Last time you went dancing there was a lineup of dicks waiting to rub on your ass.”

“I don’t want to see anyone else either.” I say nothing about being rubbed on, because that happens no matter what. “Now can you stop talking and let me go to sleep?”

“’Kay.” He burrows through my hair until his nose tickles my neck. Then his lips find my shoulder. He snuggles in, a few minutes later he shoves the throw pillow out of the way and wraps himself around me.

I feel warm and safe as I drift back to sleep. Maybe too safe, and that scares me, because it feels like I’m giving this man my heart, even though I shouldn’t. Summer ends soon. And then what? Does he take my heart back to Manhattan with him while I have to go on here, alone? I have all these secrets I’m keeping, and who knows what will happen when my skeletons eventually claw their way out of the closet.

* * *

I sleep until noon. It’s blissful. I freeze mid-stretch and realize I’m not alone in my bed. Memories of the bar from last night filter through. Shots. Dancing. Telling some jerk that my butt was not a place for him to grind. Panic sets in for half a second, until the familiar scent of Pierce’s cologne and the perfect fit of his body against mine registers, and I can relax.

“You forget I was here?” Pierce’s voice is sleep raspy.

“I thought I brought home a random, actually.” Only for about half a confused second.

I grin at the sudden stiffness in his body. Then yelp when he pinches my butt. “Not funny.”

“Ow. Where’s your sense of humor?” I rub my rear, which means I inadvertently rub his penis, through the barrier of clothing, but still.

He exhales a heavy breath. “It disappeared with my girlfriend last night.”

I roll over to face him and cover my mouth with my palm. My mouth tastes like a toilet bowl. “I didn’t disappear. I went out with my sister. That’s allowed, you know.”

“I don’t like it when you’re not talking to me. And when I’m not invited.”

“You’re addicted to this, aren’t you?” I motion to what I’m sure is my very messed-up hair. I also don’t think I took off my makeup last night, so there’s a solid chance my mascara is smeared in raccoon-style circles under my eyes.

“Hopelessly.” He kisses the end of my nose, and then backs away so he’s not breathing his sleep breath in my face. “I want to take you out for dinner tonight.”

“Do you, now?”

“Mmm. In Manhattan. We can stay at my condo. I can have you all to myself.”

“You can have me all to yourself right here.”

“But your sister is across the hall. And all the beach houses are rented out or in various stages of reno, and not fit for a sleepover. Not the kind I want to have tonight, anyway.”

“Have you forgotten that your hand is the only action you’re going to see this weekend?”

“Right. Hmm.” He taps his lip. “That’s not a problem. We can make tonight all about you.”

“All about me, huh?”

“That’s right.”

“Dinner and sleepover without orgasms? That should be interesting.”

“Oh, there will be orgasms. I just won’t get to have mine inside you.”

I shiver at the thought of how creative he’s going to get with that, and whether I’ll be able to stand by my own boycott.

I put on a pot of coffee and Pierce hangs out in my bedroom while I shower off last night’s sweat. Pierce lounges on my bed with a coffee mug and a plate of sugar cookies—I’m sure my bed is full of crumbs, but I’ll deal with that later—while I set to packing an overnight bag. I torture him by parading around in a bra and panties while showing him dresses for tonight’s dinner. I drag the entire thing out for as long as I can, and I end up changing my panties three times to make him sweat.

I think’s it’s probably as torturous for myself as it is for Pierce, but I’m willing to suffer because his discomfort is empowering.

At two thirty, as we’re getting ready to leave, Pierce gets a call from his brother. “What are you talking about? They’re what?” His eyes lift to mine and then narrow. “Can you take care of it? They’re in which rental? Fuck. The new guests are supposed to be there in an hour. Just put them in the shed and I’ll deal with them tomorrow when I get back. Fine. Fine. I’ll come help. I’m on my way.”

I smile serenely at him. “Found the gnomes, huh?”

“Well played, Rian. I suppose you wouldn’t be interested in helping me get rid of them.”

“Oh, I did that yesterday, all by myself.”

“I’ll be back in an hour. You better be ready. And I think we might need to renegotiate the terms of tonight’s date.” He kisses me on the cheek and leaves me to finish packing.

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