Made for You (The Best Mistake 2)

“You may not, but she does,” he replied, gesturing crudely between her legs.

“That’s disgusting,” she said, stuffing a handful of popcorn in her mouth. And so true.

They were lounging on Will’s nonwhite couch, and she was wearing ancient booty shorts from college, and one of Will’s undershirts. Her hair was a mess, and she didn’t have any makeup on beyond the remnants of yesterday’s mascara.

And she felt the most fabulous she had in months. Years. Maybe forever.

“I could get used to this whole life-vacation thing, ya know?”

Will gave her a bland look over her shoulder. “Perhaps that’s a sign that this shouldn’t just be a vacation.”

She took a small sip of wine and considered. “Nah. If I live like this forever I’ll get huge.” Again.

“Great, maybe your boobs will grow.”

Instead of getting offended, she found herself grinning confidently. “You like my boobs.”

“Sure, when I can find ’em.”

Her smile only widened as she licked buttery salt off her fingers. This was just right. Her and Will bickering like old times with the added benefit of sex. And wine.

And apparently horror movies.

“So how many of your lady friends have you subjected to this?” she asked as he finally pulled a DVD case from the shelf.

“What do you mean ‘subjected’? Chicks love this.”

“You haven’t put any of them through this, have you?”

His hands paused for a second. “No. None.”

Brynn’s smile faltered slightly. This wasn’t supposed to be special—it was supposed to be like any other of his short-lived fling.

She certainly wasn’t looking to be different in Will’s life.

Although perhaps it was inevitable that their situation be unique. Lifelong enemies didn’t become temporary lovers every day. Though Brynn was no longer sure that sex was all they were doing anymore. There’d been plenty of it over the past few days, and yet here they were getting ready to watch his scary-movie collection together.

Not at all typical fling behavior.

When she’d hatched her ridiculous, spontaneous seduce-Will-Thatcher plan, she’d had it in her head that they’d alternate between tearing at each other’s clothes and going back to having nothing to do with each other.

But it had been a week since they’d screwed on her couch, and the days that had followed hadn’t been anything like she’d been picturing. She hadn’t counted on moral support, or lazy Sunday breakfasts, or friendship.

But here they were.

“Okay, so what is this?” she asked skeptically as he plopped down beside her on the couch and dug his hand into the popcorn bowl. “Psycho? Scream? That Nightmare on Elm Street business?”

He shook his head, eyes already locked on the screen with a dreamy expression. “Night of the Living Dead. Totally classic. You’re going to love it.”

Brynn let out the smallest of sighs even though she wasn’t the least bit put out. She’d never been a movie buff, but she had to admit, there was something kind of nice about being curled up on a rainy summer night with margaritas and popcorn. And a hot guy.

Whom she might or might not hate. Leaning toward not.

Brynn’s jaw dropped open as the opening credits rolled. “Tell me this movie isn’t in black and white.”

“It’s from 1968, Princess, of course it’s in black and white.”

Brynn slumped farther into the couch and prepared to be thoroughly bored. “I never pictured you as the type to watch old movies,” she muttered.