Then nothing was on my mind because he opened the door in a pair of gray cotton jersey sleep pants with a wide navy elastic band that rode low on his hips.
And nothing else.
He had dark chest hair, not much, just enough, that trailed down to a dense line low on his flat stomach that led into the waistband of his pants.
His chest was magnificent.
His chest deserved sonnets.
The sight of his chest might make me pass out.
I couldn’t even think of that line of hair that led into his pants or I might lapse into a coma.
I looked up into his semi-sleepy, ice-blue eyes.
Nope.
Not pass out.
Orgasm.
“Hattie? Is everything okay?” his semi-sleep-roughened voice asked.
What was I doing here again?
His gaze went beyond me to the curb.
His stubbled jaw hardened.
Oh, right.
That was what I was doing.
“We’re going to talk,” I declared, turned to give Brett a low wave, a signal I was heading in and a moment for me to pull it together because I could do this.
And I was going to do this.
Brett was being Brett, thus he told me he’d wait at the curb for me to text all was well and Axl was on duty, or for me to come back out so he could take me home.
Yes, at 3:00 at night.
Totally a nice guy.
Seeing as I could do this, and I was going to, I pushed through Axl to get into his house.
I only took a few steps in because there was a light coming from the back, through a door to a room on the right, but the space I was in was dark, the shades were closed, and I didn’t want to mess up before I started by running into furniture or breaking a lamp.
I watched Axl standing at the door, looking out of it like I was still there, then he did a head gesture I couldn’t decipher in my current panicked, anxious, scared, mildly turned-on state, and he closed the door.
Then he moved.
A lamp switched on.
In full light, him and his chest and eyes and those sleep pants …
Not to mention that line of hair.
Gah!
“Ha—” he started.
I put up a hand instantly. “No. Nope. Unh-unh. This time, I get to do the talking and you get to listen, but what you don’t get to do is interrupt.”
He did that man stance with hands on hips that I didn’t understand if its purpose was to take up as much room as manly possible or just have something to do with his hands.
But it highlighted his chest.
His awesome chest.
Focus!
I launched in.
“First, I’m sorry to wake you up. But Brett brought me here after work so I wouldn’t chicken out when you didn’t text me, and as an excuse for the inexcusable rudeness of waking you up, I was probably totally going to find some reason to chicken out. So I’m sorry, truly, but it was now or maybe not ever.”
“I do not care even a little bit that you woke me up,” he stated firmly.
Oh my.
My.
That was nice.
And Brett was right.
Moving on.
“And that’s not my way of saying I’m upset you didn’t text me. I get it.”
“I’m not sure you do since the only reason I didn’t was that I had a busy day, and I wasn’t able to get to your texts for a while. When I did, I could tell you were concerned, so it fucked with me I didn’t have a minute to text you to let you know I was cool. I didn’t get home until an hour ago, and didn’t think, after you danced, a late-night texting was gonna help us work through our shit. I was gonna connect with you first thing tomorrow. Which, strictly speaking, we’re doing, since tomorrow is now.”
Oh, well then.
That was nice too.
No, actually awesome.
And was I a freak to feel kind of warm and squishy at the words “help us work through our shit”?
I mean he thought we had shit!
I couldn’t get bogged down in that.
Onward ho!
“Okay, so, taking us back to where this all started, I can only hope you’d understand how embarrassing it was for you and Ryn to see me how I was that day in the dance studio. I think you understand I like you, and I wanted you to like me, and acting like a lunatic because I messed up a dance isn’t going to make you like me.”
He took his hands from his hips, looked like he was going to make a move toward me, and opened his mouth.
“No,” I said quickly, shaking my head. “We’re in the scary, soul-baring part so you don’t get to talk. I’ll open up discussion when I’m done. Now you need to listen.”
When I said the bit about “the scary, soul-baring part” his face took on an expression I had to ignore for my peace of mind and my will to go on without skipping this part and jumping him and his bare chest.