You’re going on a date, ass wipe. Yeah, a fucking date in a crowded bar, and with a woman who will irritate the hell out of you.Spencer rubbed the palm of his hand down his face to ease the ache in his pants, but his dick had other ideas.
“Dry cleaners. Got it,” he said, turning towards the stairs.
It was easy to lean into Kate because she hadn’t forcibly tugged him close. She’d opened up to him when she’d mentioned her family, and the cloudy sparks in her eyes had been genuine. No airs, no pretentiousness. He valued that. Getting to know this woman didn’t feel like work. It felt as though he’d been missing Kate his entire life. Then his dick went and fucked it up. No wonder she’d stopped him. Maybe Wren was right that he wasn’t just a germaphobe, but socially awkward too.
How long had it been since he’d gotten laid?Spencer wasn’t counting the daily ritual of fist-pumping his dick either.
Shit. He couldn’t even recall.
He was at his bedroom door when he heard her footsteps and turned around, blocking her from entering the room. At the office, he thought she was being cheeky when she offered to come to his home, but now that he knew she was genuine, herhelpingwas dangerous to both of them. His stomach did a giddy flip at the thought of her watching him change clothing.
And his dick…the fucker only got harder.
If she got into his room…
In his bed…
“Why are we stopping?” Wide innocent eyes stared up at him.
“I’ll bring the shirt and pants out to you.” There was no way he’d be able to sleep tonight if his room smelled of Kate.
“Por favor.” She rolled her eyes and maneuvered around him. “I’ve seen mis hermanos naked.”
Spencer groaned. “I’m not one of your brothers.”
She shrugged, but her lowered lashes said she wasn’t as indifferent to seeing him naked as she pretended. “True. I bet you don’t dress as quickly as they do either.”
Damnit, she was doing that thing where she outmaneuvered him. She was also correct, not that he was going to give her any more ammunition.
“Do you even know what you’re going to wear?” She didn’t wait for an answer. Kate walked into his walk-in closet opposite his king-size bed and emitted a low, appreciative whistle.
What could he say, he liked his life organized. “I’ll find something.” He buried his hands in his pockets, fist clenching as she perfumed his air.
“At this rate, you’ll be late for your date.”
She wiggled her brows playfully, yet her dimples didn’t flash with her smile. If she didn’t want him to go, he’d say ditto—at the moment he didn’t want to leave either.
Crazy.
Yep, his sex-deprived dick was cutting off circulation to his brain. Nothing was making sense, not the pulse drumming in his veins, or the flip and roll of his stomach each time she glanced over her shoulders. He didn’t believe in love at first sight as a rule, yet Spencer couldn’t deny any of the emotions holding him captive.
“Don’t you have anything casual?” In her search for casual clothing, the hangers slid across the metal rod.
When he entered the closet, her neck arched to see the shirts hanging over her head, making her appear shorter than the five foot five inches he suspected. Standing close behind her, Spencer waited for his skin to tingle with anxiety or his breathing to turn shallow. She was in his space, a very small space compared to his bedroom. His soul said she was the sheet music to an old tune, but his head screamed stranger.
He waited. Waited for the onslaught of familiar emotions to demand distance.
It never came.
Instead, he moved closer, until her long black waves brushed his soiled shirt as he reached above her to grab a fresh shirt from the hanger.
“No jacket equals casual,” he said, trying not to fill his lungs any more than he needed to.
She laughed. Her head fell against his chest, sending an echo of her joy through his chest. His heart clenched, greedily capturing the sound.
“What’s wrong with a shirt and pants?”
“Nothing,” she said, clearing her throat.