She giggled nervously. ‘It was an accident, I promise.’
He coughed out a laugh. ‘Sure, it was. If you wanted me to shut up about my arse, you just had to say so.’
‘If you threaten to show it to me again, I’ll kick you harder,’ she joked, desperately trying to cover her fluster.
‘Noted,’ he said. He chuckled through gritted teeth, one hand reaching for the remote while the other still cradled his crotch. ‘How about I find us something decent to watch?’
‘Yes. Do. Something actiony or…’Less sexy.‘Funny. I’m just going for a pee.’
Sera leaned against the bathroom door and squeezed her eyes shut.What the hell was that?Was she drunk? She must be drunk. How many beers had she had? She counted on her fingers. Three and a half beers? She sighed. Not very drunk then. But she was tired. Booze always hit her way harder when she was tired.
And Toby must be drunk, he’d had… five? She screwed up her nose. So not very drunk either. He was a big guy. It took a lot to get him drunk. But his adrenaline would have been firing after the emotion of Mr Boggs. Beer, adrenaline and emotion. Yep. That was it. Because he would never say anything to her about his hot arse or touch her like that if he wasn’t smashed, surely?
Her fingers pressed to her mouth as she thought about his eyes and how black they’d become, about his lips and the way his tongue had flicked across them, and how his long fingers had softly brushed against her skin, so warm and agonisingly gentle.
And then there was his cock. Unless he had his wallet in his pocket, she was sure that had been his cock hardening against the side of her leg.
A memory flickered behind her eyes, of their camping trip a few months back. They’d shared a tent, as they always did. She’d woken to him spooning her, his breath hot on her nape, and in her sleepy haze, she’d pressed back into him. He’d groaned and pulled her closer, his large hand gripping her midsection and his erection pressing against her butt.
But that had been different. Guys always woke up with erections, didn’t they? And she’d been half-asleep, and the moment she’d realised what was happening, she wiggled out of his grasp, and he’d rolled onto his back and grunted out a snore.
But tonight… neither of them was asleep.
She squeaked out a whine and put her head in her hands. What was going on with her? Was she on freaking heat?
She glanced in the mirror, and she could see Toby was right. She was flushed. Her face, her neck, even her cleavage was red and blotchy, and she couldn’t blame the beer, or even the sight of Ethan’s firm, round arse bouncing up and down.
Turning on the tap, she splashed cold water on her cheeks and leaned heavily on the sink. One minute, she was lusting after Ethan, and the next she was lusting after…
‘No, no, no, no, no,’ she whispered to her wide-eyed reflection.
It was wrong. All wrong. It wasToby.
She drew in a deep breath then blew it back out, slow and steady. Then repeated the process, just to make sure she was absolutely calm.
‘No more beer,’ she growled at her reflection. Then she flushed the toilet and headed back to the lounge room and her best friend.
‘Die Hardone, two or three?’ Toby asked, pointing the remote at the title screen, apparently oblivious to her existential crisis.
‘Three,’ Sera said. She sat a little way up the couch from him, her back straight and her hands primly on her knees.
He patted his thighs. ‘You can put your feet back in my lap. I trust you. I think.’
‘I’m going to sit up for a bit. My back’s sore.’
‘Want me to rub it?’
His question was completely innocent – he’d rubbed her back many times, when she’d been injured, or sick or even when she’d been sad – so why did the way he rolled those words out make her snap her thighs together?
‘I’ll be okay,’ she said, her voice all squeaky. ‘I just need to sit up.’
‘Okey-dokey.’
He smiled at her, and when her insides fluttered, she almost whimpered in alarm.
‘Do you want another beer?’ he asked. ‘I’m getting one.’
She shook her head. ‘Better not. How are you getting home, by the way? Uber? Because you can’t drive.’