She hooked her thumbs around his waistband and pulled his shorts down.
It took closer to fifteen seconds, but only because she stopped to throw off her clothes before he turned on the water. Thank goodness she’d packed her blow-dryer.
“So who all is going to be at this party?” Alexa asked him on Sunday as they ate a late breakfast on the couch. She’d convinced him to make her pancakes this time. And not to toot his own horn, but they turned out pretty great.
“A bunch of people you’ve probably heard me talk about—the guys from my basketball league; Carlos; Robin and Lucy, those girls you met last night; lots of other people I don’t know.” He paused. “Some of the dudes from my basketball league who’ll be there are black. FYI.”
She smiled and squeezed his hand.
“Thanks for letting me know.” She took another sip of coffee. “Whose party is it again?”
“Heather’s. She’s an old friend of mine. She’s got a great house, right on the beach.”
He should probably mention that he’d dated her, just so she wouldn’t find out from someone else.
“Uh, Heather and I used to sort of date, but that was a long time ago.”
“Oh.” She twisted a finger around a lock of her hair. “Okay.” She looked down at her half-eaten pancakes, so he couldn’t see her face. “What time should we go?”
Did she not care that he’d dated Heather? It’s not like he wanted her to be all jealous about it. Okay, maybe just a little jealous would be nice.
“I kind of wanted to go on the early side, since I’m on call tonight. So, like, four or five?”
She opened her mouth, closed it, and drew her knees up against her chest.
“Maybe”—he wrapped his arms around her, knees included—“I can go for another run, and it can end like it did yesterday?”
“Mmmm.” She turned her head back toward him, and he claimed her mouth. “You taste like syrup,” she said, when they ended the kiss.
“If you like that, I have plenty more syrup, you know. There are many things we can do with it that don’t involve pancakes.”
She turned more fully around.
“Hmmm, that sounds interesting. Waffles, you mean? Do you have a waffle iron?”
He shook his head.
“Biscuits? My mom always puts syrup on biscuits.”
He ran his hand down that deep V of his flannel robe that she loved to wear. And that he loved for her to wear.
“Nope,” he said, his hand lingering at her left breast.
“Hmmm.” She wiggled her shoulder, and the robe fell. “Then I don’t know. Tell me.”
He leaned forward to whisper in her ear as his hands roamed over her body.
He didn’t have time for a run before the party.
Alexa realized after thirty seconds at Heather’s party that she was out of her element. Maybe every woman at the party wasn’t blond, but wow, did it sure look like it. And not just blond, but that perfect honey blond with golden highlights, all either up in swinging ponytails or down in flowing waves, in utter defiance of the humid air from the coast.
And it wasn’t just the hair. They were all wearing those barely there dresses—the kind that you couldn’t wear a bra with, the kind that Alexa always walked right by in the store—and their bodies looked perfect in them. She looked down at herself in the forgiving red and white polka-dot A-line dress she’d felt cute in before leaving Drew’s apartment and sighed.
She saw at a glance she was the only black person there, but at least she knew more would show up eventually. She squeezed Drew’s hand, grateful again to him for thinking to tell her that. He smiled down at her.
“Oh great, there’s Heather,” Drew said.
Oh great. His ex.
She had originally been glad he’d told her that tidbit of information before they’d arrived at the party. Way better than if she found out from another guest, or even worse, from Heather herself. But right now, as tall, thin, blond Heather turned to greet her, she wished she didn’t know.
“Heather, this is Alexa,” Drew was saying. Alexa noticed that he didn’t hesitate this time. She wasn’t even “my . . .” today, huh? “Alexa, Heather. We brought beer.”
“Drew, good to see you!” Heather hugged first him, then Alexa. Given no choice in the matter, Alexa returned the hug. “Nice to meet you! Beer goes in the kitchen. Go outside and join the party. I’ve got lots of beer and sangria, and the grills are all going.”