Infinite Us - Eden Butler Page 0,10
away the calm, simple smile she’d worn seconds before. “Because I can help get you to sleep.”
“Oh? How you plan on doing that?” My gaze was purposeful, as penetrating as the slow, wide smile I gave her. The look was intentionally hard, slipping to her mouth, then down her body just long and slow enough to be insulting. It got me the reaction I wanted.
“Is it impossible for you to not act like a horny teenager?”
“I’m not horny.” My laugh came quick and got louder when Willow barged passed my door. “I’m just teasing you a little.”
“You’re shamelessly flirting.”
“Would I do that, Will?”
I could tell by the way she cocked her head, and how she smiled at me that she liked that, the little nickname. It had come out of nowhere but felt right, and I’d been rewarded with a smile I’d not seen before. It looked good on her. “Absolutely.”
I stayed in the doorway while Willow took inventory of my apartment, not judging, but probably recognizing how sparsely it was decorated, with a bunch of posters on my wall but little else. Tupac and Dizzy Gillespie, Einstein, and quotes from both Langston Hughes and Neil Gaiman designed by small-time artists. But Willow wasn’t checking out my art or posters; she was assessing.
One nod of her head, an agreement she made to herself, then she faced me, pulling off the loud yellow sweater she wore, stripped down to the sleeveless white tee underneath.
“Okay. The couch will do.”
“Do for what?”
She pointed to it without answering, throwing a stare so serious I almost thought she was sincerely pissed that I’d flirted. Almost. “Lie down.” And when I didn’t move, Willow adopted the best drill sergeant tone and pointed at the brown leather of my couch. “Now.”
Three
Nash
“It’s not gonna work.”
“It’ll work.”
“Stubborn fucking woman.” I flinched when she smacked me, pretending that little slap hurt worse than it did. “Stop beating on me.”
“Stop being an asshole.”
The scent of jasmine was everywhere; it hung like a cloud in my apartment as Willow’s hair slid against my face. She touched me softly, fingertips over my temples, hair tickling my face as she stroked and rubbed my forehead.
I tried to keep it light. “I don’t let anybody talk to me like that, you know. Not even my twin sister.”
The small wave of movement around my head stopped and I opened my eyes, staring up at her as she lowered her shoulders and shook her head. I could sense the smartass comment before she made it. “Still can’t believe there’s two of you.”
“We’re not both bad.”
“So it’s just you.”
“That’s it, I don’t have to put up with this nonsense.” I sat up, and nearly made it off her lap when she tugged me back down. I tried to make it light, but I was really starting to get annoyed.
“Stop it. You need at least four hours of sleep. You said it yourself when I asked what you were working on the other night.” She glanced at my open laptop and the incomplete code and blinking cursor I’d left waiting for me. “The other day at the mailboxes I overheard you talking to someone on your cell about a big meeting. Sounded super stressful and important.”
“I’ll manage.”
“I doubt that.” She made more sense than I let on. Still wasn’t sure what about this woman kept me weak, kept me sprung and stupid on a female I didn’t even know. But still, I was immobilized, struck dumb and still by her commanding voice and the bossy way she made me get into shit I just couldn’t believe in.
Like the temple rub. The aura cleanse hadn’t worked. Now Willow was trying massage and meditation. But no way I was gonna let her try “sonic meditation.” Beautiful girl or not, she was not going to touch my stereo. No Hippie-Monk-Chanting mess would come through those speakers.
“I should have never opened the door.”
“Please. You couldn’t resist.”
She paused in the temple massage when I laughed, shaking my head as though I didn’t appreciate the small jab. “I’m a baller. I can resist anything.”
“No, Nash. You’re a computer geek with insomnia.”
I cracked open an eye, frowning with my nostrils flaring, wondering if she’d been checking up on me. But she just smirked and jerked her chin at the wall, right where my framed MIT diploma in Computer Science hung, telling her all she thought she needed to know about me and my baller status. “You are not invulnerable to my temptations.”
I couldn’t deny that. She