Page 85 of So This Is War
I look at my door and then down at my shirtless self. God, imagine what he would do if I told him to come in right now. He might pass out.
Not wanting to do that, I grab the shirt I borrowed from him last night and throw it over my head while I prop myself up in bed.
“Come in,” I call out.
The door opens, and Levi steps into the room wearing a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved fitted black shirt, with his hair styled in a messy way.
When his large body consumes the small space, I get a whiff of his masculine, woodsy cologne and nearly melt right there on my bed.
I might be making it hard on him, but he sure as hell is making it hard on me too.
“Good morning,” I say in a cheery voice. “Can I help you? Did I forget something?”
He shakes his head and looks around the space. “It, uh, it looks great in here. Very cozy.”
“Oh, thank you,” I say. “I’m very happy with it and very grateful you offered me the space.”
“Not a problem.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets and rocks on his heels.
“Can I help you with something?” I ask.
“Yeah, I kind of wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Sure.” I pat the end of the bed. “Have a seat.”
He glances at the bed, back at me, and then at the bed again. “You know, I think it would be best if I stay standing.”
“Not a problem,” I say. “What’s going on?”
“Well, this is a little awkward, but I wanted to be honest with you.”
“Oh,” I say as I lift the blankets off me and shimmy out of the bed to a standing position. “Am I not doing my job the way you want me to?” I move in close to him, and he moves back, bumping into my wall.
“Uh, no, you’re doing great work. Keep it up.”
“Okay, then what is it?”
“You see,” he says, sounding slightly jittery. “The fact of the matter is, you’re sort of . . . kind of . . . you know, with everything happening and the past well?—”
“Levi, what’s going on?”
“You’re making me hard,” he says in one fell swoop.
“Oh.” I attempt to hold back my smile, and it feels nearly impossible. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you didn’t. And yes, this is incredibly unprofessional of me, but I wanted you to know. That’s what’s happening.”
“Well, thank you for telling me. I’m guessing from the way you’re backing away from me, you don’t appreciate being hard.”
“Not particularly. Granted, I love that my dick can get excited. It makes me feel alive. But when it comes to you, it’s forbidden, so I really shouldn’t be getting hard, you know?”
I nod.Sadly.“I know what you mean. My dad was very explicit when it came to any sexual behavior with any of his players.”
“See? You know.”
“I do.” I cross my arms over my chest, lifting my breasts while doing so, and I watch his eyes bounce from my face, down to my torso, and then back up. The man is impossible. “Can I ask you, is there anything in particular that’s making you hard?”
“Yup,” he answers. “And I don’t want this to sound chauvinistic, but the no bra situation is just about destroying me.”
