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Laughing, I say, “Yes, wiseass. It’s in the freezer.”

“Oh, not in the oven. How unconventional,” she jokes, pointing a finger in my direction. “Umm,” her voice is slightly muffled what with her head in the freezer and all. “Actually, you’re fresh out.”

“Oh, shit! I forgot. The water line burst and I haven’t had a chance to fix it.”

Watching Grace walk into my living room, a bag of frozen vegetables in each hand, shouldn’t be hot. It shouldn’t turn me on, but it sure as hell does. “Well, luckily for you, you obviously love frozen peas.” She sits next to my propped-up foot on my coffee table. Looking down at my leg, she pauses for a second. She leans forward and I’m momentarily distracted by her cleavage—it’s impossible not to look at it as she leans forward. When her fingertips slide under the hem of my shorts, I nearly jump out of my seat.

“What are you doing?” My voice sounds like a shrieking banshee. “Your hands are fucking ice cold.”

She apologizes, but doesn’t move her hand from its place under my shorts. Averting her eyes from mine, she says, “I was just pulling these down a little so the ice didn’t burn your skin. I can get a towel though.”

As she moves to stand, I grab her wrist, pulling her back to the coffee table. “Decorative, remember.” We both let the laughter flow, allowing it to ease away the tension.

Forcing myself to think of baseball, cooking shows, or even a burning building is the only way to will away the erection that threatens as she adjusts my shorts. The shock of the ice cold peas helps, too. But her nearness, her sweetness, her heat, it’s all too much. Luckily, the other pillow she brought out with her is the perfect cover up for my physical reaction.

Moving from the table, Grace settles next to me on the couch. “So,” she draws out the word, a bubble of awkward silence threatening to fall on us. “Now what?”

My stomach takes the pause as an opportunity to grumble in hunger. “Uh, how about some food?”

“If your fridge and cabinets look anything like your freezer, I think we may be shit outta luck.” She shrugs, making no effort to hide her laughter.

“Just hand me the phone,” I say, laughing with her.

She watches on, a stupefied look on her face as I order us some take out. “You have the pizza place on speed dial?”

“What?” Shrugging, I hang up the phone after ordering my usual. “My parents are number one, at least.”

“I’m stuffed.” Leaning back, she rests her hands across her stomach. “That was damn good.”

“Best in town,” I add before sliding forward in my seat. Wobbling slightly, I stand from the couch.

“What are you doing?” she calls out. “Sit back down,” she commands, standing next to me. “Whatever it is you need to do, I can do for you.”

With as much style as I can muster, I flop back onto the couch, a smug look on my face. “Yeah?” She nods, satisfied with my submission. “Cool. Sponge bath it is.”

Opening and closing her mouth a few times, she says nothing, but her cheeks and neck turn a bright shade of red. Unable to let her wait there in embarrassment any longer, I move next to her and rest my hands on her shoulders. “Guess that’s more of a second date kind of thing, huh?”

She slaps a hand to my chest, calling me a jerk. “Fine. You go shower.” She gives in, angling her head back to the bathroom. “And I’ll clean up in here.”

“Deal.” Hobbling down to the shower, all I can think about are her wet hands running over my body.

And cue the erection again.

Looks like a cold shower it is.

Besides, I’d rather be in the living room next to the woman I’d be fantasizing about, rather than under the hot water thinking about her.

Showering and getting dressed takes way more effort than I thought. The rest and ice definitely helped my leg and I’m able to put a little more weight on it than before, but it’s not 100 percent. Luckily, I’m heading into a four-day stretch without work. That should be more than enough time to heal.

When I walk back out to the living room, it feels as if I’m in a different apartment. “When you said clean up, I figured you meant you’d put the dishes in the sink. Maybe put the leftover pizza in the fridge.” In disbelief, I make my way back over to the couch. “Did you dust?” Running my finger over the TV stand as I walk past it, I can’t hide my shock when my finger does not leave a trail through the dust that’s usually there.

“Well, you were in there forever.” She arches a brow, smiling at me with softness in her eyes. “I had to do
something
to keep myself occupied.”

“I was not in there forever. The water was freezing. I couldn’t have taken more than five minutes.”

“Freezing? Why’s that, David?” Her voice, low and sultry almost, dances over to me, tingling my ear.

“So,” I deflect, “What are we watching?”

She laughs, patting the spot on the couch next to her. Making herself right at home, she points the remote at the screen and selects a movie from the on-demand queue. Busy getting my leg situated, I don’t realize she’s selecting from the
Recently Watched
list.

“Oh, I don’t know. How about
Big Titties in the Big Cities?
”

Fooled by the straightforward sound of her voice, I almost don’t catch the title of the movie. It isn’t until I look up at the screen and see the very explicit thumbnail showing on the screen that it all actually makes sense to me. “What the? Oh, that fucker. I’m gonna wring his neck,” I grumble in frustration, nearly ripping the remote from her hands. “Ian was here the other day. I swear it wasn’t me.”

“Are you saying you don’t like porn?” Twisting in her seat, she tucks one leg under her body. There’s nothing in her face giving away how she really feels right now. Every guy instinct I have is telling me to run the other way, scream and shout from the top of my lungs,
Porn? Yuck. No, who likes that. Too much nudity for my taste.
But then she cracks before I have to lie.

She blinks and her face changes from stoic seriousness to hysterical laughter. “Damn! And I really wanted to hear what you’d come up with,” she blurts out through her laughter.

“I swear it was Ian,” I defend, though she doesn’t seem to need more of an explanation.

“Oh, I’m sure.” Her voice drips with sarcasm as she shifts her attention back to the screen. “Can you, um, change this now?” Well, at least she’s still laughing.

Keeping my focus on the screen, I click through the movies on HBO and stop when she squeals when
In Her Shoes
pops up as a choice. “Have you ever seen this?”

Swallowing back the wiseass response I want to spit out, I say, “Um, no I haven’t.” She swipes the remote out of my hand and before I can protest, we’re watching some rom-com about sisters fighting.

As much as I won’t admit it, the movie isn’t horrible. And much to my surprise, there’s even a few sex scenes. I guess directors figure they need to include something in there to keep the guys entertained. I nearly spit out my water when one of the scenes starts out with a guy reading a racy excerpt from a romance novel to one of the sisters. Grace shoots me a look, earning a broad smile from me. “What, I didn’t say anything?”

“Yeah, yeah.” She laughs, returning her attention to the screen.

Using the opportunity to ask what I wanted to ask earlier, I lean into her, keeping my lips just far enough from her ear that I’m not touching it, but close enough that she’ll feel my breath. Her body goes rigid at first and then melts against mine. “What about you, Grace? Do you like porn?”

Seemingly unaffected by my question, she drops her hand to my leg, dancing her fingertips along my thigh. With her eyes glued to the screen, she takes a deep, but shuddery breath before saying, “I enjoy a good porn every now and then.” On a gentle squeeze of my leg, she adds, “I like reading them, too.”

Clearing my throat, I shift in my seat, simply saying, “Well, then,” before refocusing my attention on the movie. Maybe I’ve met my match in the sarcasm department. That thought puts a smile on my face through the rest of the movie.

Sniffling and irregular breathing wakes me up some time later. When I open my eyes, there’s a wedding scene playing–one of the two main characters who were reading sex scenes to one another earlier in the movie. Grace’s eyes are glued to the screen once again. Feeling me shift at her side, she realizes I’m awake. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she croaks, swiping at the tears streaking down her cheek.

Without even thinking twice about it, I drape my arm around her shoulder and pull her close to my side. Her head fits perfectly against my chest, the smell of her citrus shampoo surrounding me. The long strands of her hair fall over my hand on her shoulder, making my fingers itch to touch it. And in an effort to offer her some comfort, I comb my fingers through it, forcing her to melt even further against me.

We stay like that until the credits roll across the screen. On a deep breath, she pulls away from me, swiping at her face once more. “You fell asleep through the part, but it was this movie that made me want to go into teaching.”

Amazed by the fact that she makes no apologies for her emotions, I turn to face her. Leaving my arm resting along the back of the couch, I let my fingers still dance through the ends of her hair. “Yeah? How so?”

Listening to her talk about how the old man in the nursing home cemented her desire to help others, I’m in awe of her genuine goodness. Her desire not only to teach students, but to help them reach their fullest potential is nothing short of moving. “Reading can change a person,” she continues her explanation. “And I’m not just saying in the very basic sense of making you a more educated person. But it makes you more aware of the beauty in the world. The creativity in your own heart. Reading is an escape from the world, but not all people see it that way. So if I can help my students find that escape, help them discover how words can change them forever . . .” She pauses, taking stock of my reaction. Satisfied with whatever she sees there, she continues, “I guess I just figured that was a pretty noble pursuit to dedicate my life to. It’s not running into burning buildings or anything like that–”

“Damned if you’d ever catch me in front of a room full of teenagers.” Laughing, I add, “That’s a damn brave thing if you ask me.”

Something passes between us. It’s unnamable, but it’s calm and peaceful. It’s understanding and respect rolled into one. It’s attraction and emotion all tangled together.

“All right,” Grace cuts through the threatening silence. “Time to get you to bed.”

“You can have the bed. I’ll sleep out–”

Holding her hand up as if it will literally stop my words, she says, “Nope. I won’t hear any of it. Get your ass into bed. I’m setting my alarm for two hours.” She pulls her phone out from her purse and waves it in my face as if I need anything more than her seriousness to believe her threats. “So you better get going.” Still as a statue, she stands there, pointing down the hall. I’d have to laugh at her if she didn’t look so beautiful.

“Yes, ma’am,” I mock. “You know, you could sleep in there with me. It’d save you the . . .” I pause, pretending to count off the number of steps to my room. Her hard eye roll stops me from saying the rest of my sentence, but it makes both of us laugh.

“I’m not sleeping with you,” she assures. “Yet.” She winks, her lusty promise twisting in my gut. Despite what she’s just said, she doesn’t break character, still holding firm that I need to follow her instructions and get my ass in bed.

But when I bend down to kiss her cheek, whispering a sweet, “thank you” in her ear, her face softens, a smile pulling at her red lips.

In that moment, I know the last thing I’ll be able to do is sleep knowing Grace is here. With her on the couch, instead of next to me, somehow my bed suddenly feels too big, too cold, and too empty.

It’s only thoughts of eventually feeling her next to me that make sleep come somewhat quickly.

“Where the hell am I?” Calling out, I inhale a mouthful of soot and smoke. In between the coughing and choking, I manage to yell, “Help,” but there’s no one there to hear me.

Blinded by the blanket of darkness surrounding me, I reach out to grab for . . . for something. Anything to let me know where I am, to help guide me out of wherever the hell I am.