He grunted. “Greg still just wants to play football with you?”
“Sort of. What do you think I should do to make it clear I want more?”
“Back up. What did you guys talk about at the party? Did he ask if you’re seeing anyone?”
She rewound their conversation in her mind. “He mentioned he knew I was between men. And that at first he thought you and I were together. He was glad we weren’t because he didn’t like you because you reminded him of my last boyfriend.”
Nick’s body stiffened behind her. “He’s an ass, Shelby. Find someone else. You could have any guy you want.”
“But I think I want this one,” she whispered.
He blew out a long breath. “Kiss him. You’re really good at it.”
She turned her head to see his face. He had to be kidding, right? “Don’t tease Nick, I’m serious.”
“I’m not teasing. You are.” He tightened his hold on her as he shivered again. “Now can we please just watch the movie? All this talking is making me wish I’d told you I was a solid type A patient so I could have some peace and quiet.”
“Fine.” Shelby snuggled a little closer and smiled. A guy like Nick thought she was a good kisser? Wow.
After a few minutes of reliving their last kiss in his Porsche, she whispered, “You’re a good kisser too, Nick.”
His hand found one of hers, then he wove their fingers together. “If I didn’t feel like I’d just been hit by a dump truck, I’d show you what else I’m good at. You want a rain check?”
“Even when sick, men are such dogs. Shut up and watch the movie.”
When his low chuckle reverberated off her back, she grinned and tucked their entwined hands under her chin. Why was it so nice to hold Nick’s hand? She’d never felt that comforting connection with anyone before.
So did she want a rain check?
The way he kissed, and with that smoking hot body, she could only imagine how good he’d be in bed. But sex was all he wanted, so it wasn’t worth thinking about.
But it was tough not to. As she watched the familiar movie, her lids grew heavy so she closed her eyes.
After what seemed like a short ten-minute nap, Shelby blinked her eyes open. A different movie played on the big screen. She reached above her head and felt Nick’s forehead. Still burning up.
Her phone showed enough time had passed so he could take more medicine. She’d dose him up with the nighttime stuff to knock him out and then be on her way.
When she tried to slip out of his embrace, his arms clamped tightly around her. “Stay!”
“I’m not a dog you can order around, Nick.”
“I feel like crap. Please?”
She knew the feeling. When she’d gotten sick after moving in with her aunt and uncle, the only one who ever checked on her was the cook. She’d laid in bed feeling miserable all by herself. “Okay. But I need to borrow a T-shirt and some sweats. I’m not sleeping in my jeans.” Or her push up bra. It was doing its job a little too well and killing her.
“My bedroom dresser, bottom right-hand drawer.”
“Fine, but just know I have a tendency to snoop.”
Shelby went to the kitchen to get Nick’s medicine along with a sports drink. She texted Jo and told her she wouldn’t be home, and then after badgering Nick until he drank every bit of the sports drink, she climbed the stairs.
At the top she turned to the right and opened a door. It wasn’t the master bedroom, but one a princess could call home. It held a pink canopy bed and shelves stuffed with books and toys. Must be Emily’s room when she spent the night.
Too cute.
She turned out the light, closed the door, and then walked the opposite direction down a long hallway. When she opened the door at the end and crossed the threshold, she smiled. Talk about nice. The master bedroom had rich hunter-green walls, beautiful cherry wood furniture, a huge bed—of course—and sage-colored carpet. And because she had to pee, she checked out his bathroom. It was equally large, with a deep jet tub and a shower that could hold ten people.
The closet was one any woman would envy and was scary-neat and organized. All his shoes stood in straight lines on shelves, and his neatly folded ties were grouped by color. His formal wear and suits were on one wall and his casual clothes on the other. Geez, she’d never known a man could be so tidy. But not when it came to his fridge, evidently.
She found some sweats and a beer T-shirt and then changed into them. Even after pulling the drawstrings on the sweats as tight as she could, she still had to hold them up at the waist while she snooped in his bedside drawers. Was Nick the naughty-tools-and-gadgets type?