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bun with strands of hair falling down her face—and damn, if that doesn’t add to her hotness.

Unable to resist, I take a long sweep of her before coming to a stop at her face. “You look smoking,” I tell her.

She smiles, looking me up and down in my neatly pressed jeans and tight-fitted sweater.

“You look pretty smoking, too,” she compliments, her eyes twinkling with lust.

“You ready?”

“Actually…I had another idea.”

“And what’s that?” I ask, taking a step forward.

“Well, my mom and dad are out for the evening. So, I have the house to myself…”

I let out a breath, scrubbing a hand along my five o’clock shadow. “That sounds so amazing, but I really need food because someone wouldn’t let me eat earlier.”

Ally bites down on her bottom lip to stop herself from laughing. “Well, it’s not my fault you had the shits.”

The laughter she was trying to contain bursts from her lips, and I narrow my eyes at her.

“Hey, what else was I supposed to say?” I argue.

She shrugs, amusement curving her lips. “Anything but diarrhea.”

I smirk. “Well, they didn’t suspect anything, so it was worth it. But now, my stomach thinks my throat’s been cut.”

“We’ll order in.”

“Or we can go out.”

“Or we can order in.”

Considering I’d happily go to the ends of the earth for this woman, our argument ends as quickly as it started, and I let her win.

“Fine, let’s order in.”

She beams, and I know I’ve been played, but for some reason, I don’t care. Just being with her is all I need, and well, being in public with her would have made it harder to do all the things—dirty things—I’ve been dreaming of doing to her all day.

Ally lets me inside, and I follow her swaying ass all the way to the kitchen.

“Do you want a beer, or will it be too much for your stomach?” she asks with a snicker.

“Just because you’re a chick doesn’t mean I won’t flip you off.”

She giggles as she heads to the refrigerator and grabs a beer and a bottle of red wine.

“Okay, I’ll stop,” she says as she hands me my beer, and she begins to pour the wine into a fairly large wineglass.

I unscrew the top of my beer and take a small sip as she sets the bottle of wine back in the fridge.

She rummages inside a drawer before slapping a few takeout menus down on the countertop. “Let’s get you fed, huh?”

At that question, my belly lets out an almighty growl, and we both laugh. For a few minutes, we decide what we want. After Ally orders a Chinese banquet fit for an army, she guides me into the living room, and we both take a seat on the sofa.

“Can I confess something?” she asks a few moments later as I set my beer on the coffee table.

“Yeah, sure.”

“I feel a little guilty, forcing you to stay in when you obviously had plans for us.”

“Why did you want to stay in?”

“Honestly? Fewer people…more comfort. Plus, I’ve been horny as all hell since the restroom earlier.”

I let out a roar of laughter. I love how up-front she is. “You’re not the only one, but I need to eat before I think about ripping those sexy-ass clothes from your body.”

“Hey, I’m not an animal. I can control myself.”

I can’t help the Cheshire cat smile I throw her way.

“You said you were going to re-create the date I should have had with Eddie. What did you have planned?”

“You really want to know?”

“Yeah.”

I sit back into the couch and pivot my body, so I’m facing her. “Well, my plan was to pick you up, and like a gentleman, I’d knock on your door. You would answer, and I’d be blown away with how beautiful you looked. I’d compliment you…which I did. If your parents were home, I would stick around to say hello to them before whisking you away. Taking your hand, I’d guide you to my car and open the door for you. I’d wait until you were fully seated before closing the door behind you. Once I was in the car, I’d let you pick the music. Then, we’d go to the restaurant—an intimate Italian restaurant that had just the right amount of ambience to make it romantic, but not too much that you could mistake it for a strip club or a brothel.”

She lets out a snort, almost choking back on her wine, and I throw her a cheeky grin before continuing, “We’d order. For a joke, I’d suggest the spaghetti and meatballs, like in Lady and the Tramp, but you’d tell me to fuck off and order a steak to spite my romantic gesture.”

She gives a nod of the head, smiling, as if agreeing with me.

“We’d eat, talk, and definitely play a little footsie under the table. Even though part of me would be wondering what color underwear you were wearing, I’d still be listening to every word you said.”

Her eyes light up at that.

“We’d skip dessert in favor of a few scoops of gelato at the place next door, where we would just sit on the bench outside and talk about our childhoods. I’d tell you about the time I broke my arm while chasing the dog in the backyard, and you’d tell me something that would probably include punching some kid in the nose.”

She throws a dirty glare, almost insulted that I suggested it.

“I’ve never done such a thing…” She pauses and then snickers. “But, in eighth grade, I did whack a guy with a badminton racket and break his nose because he’d touched my boob.”

The thought of some snotty-ass thirteen-year-old sexually assaulting her makes every muscle in my body freeze. “Whoa, that’s not cool.”

“I know, and it was at the stage where they weren’t even properly developed, just these tiny Madonna cones.”

I can’t help but chuckle a little at that. “Madonna cones?”

“Yeah, like this…” She does a pyramid shape with her hands, showing the cone boobs. “I mean, touching any woman’s breasts without her

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