Hothead (Irresistible 4)

“Look, Drew, I know you had a rough night,” I started as I trailed him to the living room. “But I just wanted to say that before all the fridge and alarm drama happened, when I first walked in here, I realized just how grateful I was to be out of that apartment and living in this city,” I said, stopping him in front of the couch. “And since I still have energy and you’re probably wiped right now, I’d be happy to do something for you to make your night easier. I can cook something, I can run to the store. I saw a twenty-four hour place around the corner. If you need something, you can let me know.”

Drew hit me with another look.

“I’m not your ex, Evie. I don’t need to be coddled.”

“I wasn’t implying that, Drew,” I said, trying to be patient. “I was just trying to do something nice for you.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re living together now. We can’t just ignore each other. We have to try to strike a balance together.”

“Strike a balance?” He was about to sit down but apparently something I said piqued his interest. “You mean between being strangers and people who fuck in the back of cars?”

I swallowed the instant knot in my throat. This was his first mention of what happened the other night since it happened, and it took a second for me to gather myself.

“Yes,” I finally said. “Although…” I had to work up the nerve to go on. “I think we both know we didn’t… fuck. And that we definitely shouldn’t. We should keep it simple between us from now on. Civil to friendly at home. Romantic in public. No sexual touching of any kind. Right?”

It seemed like a perfectly reasonable thing to say considering it was exactly what was stated in our contract, but when I looked up at Drew, there was a hint of a sneer on his lips.

“Right,” he said, though with a mocking undertone.

“I mean if we’ve known each other for two weeks, Drew. I think it’s possible for us to dial things back to a happy medium,” I said in a positive tone, despite my absolutely pounding heart. “If not, we’re just giving up on the contract, and I know neither of us wants to do that now. Right?”

“Right.” His eyes burned into mine, his lips barely moving as he said it.

Relax. Breathe. Be positive.

“Okay. So,” I exhaled, trying to reset. “Is there anything I can do for you now before I go upstairs?”

“Yeah,” Drew muttered.

Then without warning, he reached up behind his head, gripped his back collar and peeled his shirt clean off his torso.

Whaaat.

The. Fuck.

Is happening.

I didn’t even try to avoid staring. I straight up let him watch as I checked out his unbelievably wide, hard pecs and those perfectly chiseled ab

s. And those tattoos. God. They were hot enough peeking out from under the sleeves of his shirt but with him completely undressed, they were that much sexier. They punctuated the raw masculinity that was his ripped, hard body, and it was physically impossible not to imagine what that body was capable of beyond athletics.

Ah-ah, Evie. No more touching his penis, no more touching his penis, no more touching his penis, I reminded myself of Aly’s rule as I unstuck my tongue from the roof of my mouth, taking a second to find my words again.

“Is… there a reason you’re stripping?” I finally asked, watching the lines of his six-pack deepen as he leaned forward to grab the ice pack off the table.

“You asked what you could do for me,” Drew started tersely, forcing my eyes on his biceps as he reached across his chest and pressed the ice pack to the back of his shoulder. “And what you can do is rewind this night back a few hours so I’m still at the stadium instead of skipping my post-game massage to tend to your ridiculous non-emergencies.”

I clenched my jaw, annoyed with my own lack of a response for that. I wanted to blame Iain, but that was immature so I simply held my tongue as I watched Drew sink into his seat on the couch, stretching his neck and wincing with pain as he took care of his soreness.

Still holding an ice pack to his shoulder, he used his free hand to work the muscles on his legs, digging the heel of his palm down his hamstrings, along his calves. I eyed his hand. Bruised knuckles. Taped fingers. He was basically hurting all over.

Geez.

“Look, I can do that for you,” I blurted without thinking.

The out-of-the-blue weirdness of my offer was confirmed by the odd look Drew gave me.