Show Time (Juniper Ridge Romantic Comedies #1) - Tawna Fenske Page 0,52
weakness? Jesus, where do I start? [long pause] Believing what I want to believe, even when I know goddamn well it’s not true. How’s that for fucked up? I’ll know something logically in my brain, but the rest of me gets caught up wanting something different to happen, and it’s like I’ve got blinders on. I don’t know, I guess I’m working on it. Trying to, anyway.
When I looked deep into Vanessa’s eyes and asked how we should handle the fact that I want her and she wants me, this was not on my list of expected options.
“A little more salt, you think?” She holds out a spoon dipped in the homemade Caesar dressing she’s been working on for sixteen hours, give or take.
Maybe not that long. It’s probably been ten minutes, but time crawls for a guy who thinks he has a shot at having sex with the hottest girl he’s ever met.
But I’m determined to give her time or space or whatever else she needs, so I lick that spoon like a champ. Vanessa’s eyes flicker a little, filling me with hope I’m not the only one whose mind is in the gutter.
“It’s perfect,” I tell her. “Want to eat?”
She nods and surveys the spread we’ve laid out on her counter. “Burgers, buns, macaroni salad, green salad.” Glancing back at me, she smiles a bit self-consciously. “And all the condiments of course.”
“Your attention to detail is impeccable.”
Still grinning, she thrusts a paper plate into my hands. “Load up. You’re going to need your energy.”
Wait, what? I don’t ask what she means because I don’t dare hope, but yeah…I’m still optimistic about where this is going.
We pile food on our plates, brushing elbows like old friends. Only the sparks crackling between us are not remotely friendly, and I wonder if she feels it, too. By the time we’ve settled at her dining room table, I’m pretty sure my skin is on fire.
“So.” Vanessa clears her throat and spears a leaf of romaine in her salad. “How should we do this?”
I’ve just shoved Caesar salad in my mouth, and it’s all I can do not to choke on a crouton. “Wait,” I wheeze. “What are we talking about here?”
“Sex, of course.” She picks up her glass and takes a sip, then holds it up. “This is water, by the way. Not wine or beer or anything else that could cloud my judgement.”
“Way to plan ahead.” I’m still not sure what’s happening here. “Clever forethought.”
“Or foreplay.” She gives me a sheepish look. “Sorry, is this weird?”
A little, but no way am I saying that out loud. “Not at all.”
“It’s just—I’m trying not to leap without looking, you know?”
“Yeah, of course. It’s smart to talk things through beforehand.” I’m not sure if she’s wanting to talk birth control or hookup spots, but I can roll with it. “Okay, well…how about the bedroom?”
“Clean sheets, check.” She grins and picks up her burger. “Also, condoms.”
“Good. Well, that’s good.” Okay, so that’s settled. I’ve never had this sort of pre-hookup communication, and my mind reels with what else to ask. “Any particular kinks I should be aware of?”
“Not for our first time.” She smiles a little sheepishly as her cheeks color. “I know it’s just a one-night thing, but you can…um…more than once?”
“No pressure.” I take a sip of beer, wondering if I should stick with water. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I can manage.”
“Excellent.” The grin she gives me shoots straight to my groin. “For the record, I’m generally okay with a little light hair pulling and maybe some dirty talk.”
“Who’s doing the talking and hair pulling?” We should definitely get this out in the open, and also it’s turning me on. “I’m open to either. Just want to make sure I meet your expectations.”
Vanessa takes her time chewing a bite of burger before answering. “Let’s play it by ear. How about you? Any particular turn-ons I should know about?”
You. Everything about you. Your face, your scent, your brains, your smile, the way you eat a hamburger, for crying out loud.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say that. All of it, the whole big mess. To tell her everything from the light in her eyes to the way she holds her fork gets me hot, but I need to maintain some kind of control. “Ear nibbling,” I admit. “Also the way you touch my face when we’re kissing.”
“Oh, yes.” Her eyes flash, and I can tell this is getting to her, too. “I