Friends Without Benefits

I officially lost the war against my mortification and felt crimson heat spread to the tips of my ears. “That was—that was a long time ago and this is different.”

He nodded in agreement, his eyes unapologetically moving over me again. “You’re right. This is very different.” Nico straightened from the floor and stalked to where I stood.

“What are you even doing here? How did you get in?” Again, I sounded winded. But I was determined to shift the conversation away from me and my lingerie before his scorching stare made me lose all self-control, before my panty party turned into a depanting party, and I tore all his clothes off.

I needed to remember that this guy, adult Nico, was a nice guy; smart, sweet, funny, deserving of all good things. And he loved me—or at least he used to; I was equal parts unwilling and incapable of returning those feelings. I was many things, but I would never knowingly hurt him—not again.

Therefore, Nico Manganiello and every ounce of his hotness were off limits.

Off. Limits.

Which was what I kept repeating to myself as our faces inched closer together. The twinkle in his eyes heated to an inferno of desire. A small whimper passed my lips.

Nico whispered, “Elizabeth. . .” His blazing gaze on my mouth.

And then I heard voices from the entryway and we both turned, startled, just in time to see Janie and Quinn rounding the corner.

“. . . the second penthouse makes the most sense—oh!” Janie stopped short, her hazel eyes growing wide then moving over me in curious appraisal. “Elizabeth. I didn’t expect you to be here.”

Quinn, Janie’s fiancé, glared at me. In fairness, Quinn may not have been glaring. But his gaze was always ice cold, and his mask of perpetual aloofness was firmly in place. He indicated in my general direction with his chin. “Why are you dressed like that? And whose crappy music is this?”

I mentally face palmed.

“Janie, could you turn off the music?” I asked, not willing to sashay mostly na**d over to the stereo.

“I’ll get it.” Nico gave me a last lingering look then left me. He picked my phone off the iPhone dock, then re-crossed to our trio. I felt his eyes on me the entire time; he stood just to my right, still studying the black-and-pink lace openly. I turned a little and readjusted the pillow, hoped to appear not at all effected and failed. In truth his gaze was making me hot . . . and bothered.

Janie clasped her hands together and pointed at me with both index fingers. “You were having a panty dance party, weren’t you?"

"A what?" Quinn shifted his glacial-blue eyes to his fiancé.

"From time to time Elizabeth and I like to dress in our underthings and dance around the apartment." She smiled at me. "Once these two leave, I'll join you."

"Wait—what?” Quinn no longer looked aloof. “You're going to dance around here in your underwear?”

“Ideally it will be lingerie of some sort. Cotton underwear won’t suffice. Luckily I have on the nice set you bought me in London.” Her tone was explanatory, serious. Typical Janie.

Quinn’s expression shifted from incredulous to wounded. “Why do I have to leave?"

"Because, unless I'm mistaken, I imagine Elizabeth wouldn't feel very comfortable with you being here while she is dressed in her underwear."

"We could all stay here and have a pants off dance off." Nico offered with a careless shrug. His mouth tugged to the side in a way that told me he was seconds away from bursting into laughter.

"No!" Quinn and I responded at the same time and with an identical amount of vehemence.

I finally found my voice and added, “Wait! What is going on? I thought you and Quinn were in Boston. And how did you get in the apartment?” I addressed my last question to Nico.

“You gave him my number.” Quinn replied unhelpfully.

“I’m moving in,” Nico supplied with cheerful easiness. “We’re going to be neighbors.”

“What?” I almost dropped my pillow.

“It was actually my idea, Elizabeth,” Janie said. “Nico explained about his issues with security, the whole mess. Additionally there is the rigorous schedule with his niece and the research study to consider. If Nico moves into the building then it will help with both problems. This building already has top-notch security, the firm will be supplying personal guards wherever Nico goes. And now you don’t have to go down to the hospital every eight hours and neither does Angelica. She can meet you at the hospital if you’re already down there for a shift, but the rest of the time you can just go upstairs to Nico’s penthouse and treat her there.”

“But . . .” I closed my eyes. “But I can’t treat her in an apartment. The study drug is in the investigational pharmacy and I need an infusion chair and a lot of other equipment.”

“Just give me a list.” Nico brushed my curtain of hair, moving it over my shoulder; I fought the urge to lean into his touch. “I’ll have it ordered, whatever you need.”

I glanced from Nico to Janie then back to Nico again. I’d lost, and I didn’t even know I was playing. “Fine, fine. I’ll pull together a list.”

"Okay, then. It's settled.” Janie turned her smiling face back to Quinn.

“There is one more thing.” I announced even as I reflected how awkward this conversation was going to be with me in my underwear. “I was approached at the hospital on Tuesday by a woman.”

Like flipping a switch, Nico’s stance and posture became alert, intent. “What woman? What happened?”

I glanced between Nico and Quinn. “She approached me after work and gave me a picture, of the two of us, from Monday. She’d, uh, marked up my face. And she wrote you a letter on the back of the photo.” Nico’s eyes closed, and he turned, cussed severely, his expression thunderous. I told them the entire story, start to finish, during which Nico paced the room like a caged animal.

I addressed my last comment to Quinn. “I don’t know how she could have taken the picture. There was no one on the floor except for staff.”

Quinn nodded, frowned. “We’ll have to get you a guard.” Then he turned to Nico. “Do you have any idea who this woman is?”

Nico’s hands were on his hips, and he was watching me, his expression rigid. “Yes. I know who it is.”

“Did you call the police?” Janie placed a comforting hand on my shoulder.

“Yeah. I met with them yesterday.” I responded, then offered to Quinn, “My contact is Detective Long. I’ll get you her information.”

He nodded once. His jaw ticked. “We better let the hospital know too.”

Janie rubbed my arm. “I understand now why you need a panty party.” Her smile was warm and reassuring.

I huffed a laugh and glanced at myself.

“I’m so sorry, Elizabeth.” Nico’s words were softly sincere, and my eyes tangled with his. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

I endeavored to shrug, but the heat of his gaze was wreaking havoc on my motor function. “S-okay.” I slurred, swallowed, then tried again. “It’s okay. I’m really fine.”

His frown intensified at my words. “I wish you’d called me when it happened.”

“I don’t have your number.”

“You could have gotten it from my mother.”

“I told your mother to have you call me. I didn’t want to invade your privacy if you didn’t want me to have your number.”

His eyebrows jumped on his forehead and he closed the distance between us. “Well . . . from now on consider my privacy your privacy. You can call me anytime, okay? In fact, call me every day.”

My eyes flickered to Quinn and Janie. I readjusted the pillow. “I’m not going to do that.”

Nico shook his head; his eyes moved over my face with gentle deliberateness. “I wish you would.”

Everything about him at that moment made my internal organs bleed hearts and flowers and puppies and kittens and hot chocolate and hot apple cider and red wine and campfires and Star Trek and yarn—all my favorite things. I flushed scarlet under his focused, exploding charisma.

Janie squared her shoulders and spoke with authority to both Quinn and Nico, effectively pulling me out of another Nico-trance. “Now you both need to leave. Elizabeth and I will be down here dancing in our underwear and you two can go upstairs and finish your tour of the penthouse where Nico and his family will be staying."

Quinn's eyes abruptly heated and swept over Janie's curvaceous form; then he actually groaned, muttered to no one in particular. "This is so unfair."

Nico leaned even closer and whispered in my ear, "I agree with Quinn. How am I supposed to concentrate with that mental image?" I was still beating down my blush.

"I guess you'll just have to suffer through," I offered even as I shivered.

His smile was crooked and immediate. "You have no idea."

~*~

“I like him!” Janie, true to her word, stripped to her underwear and bra as soon as the door clicked behind Quinn and Nico.

“Who?” Still dazed, I flopped myself on the couch, tried to sort through my feelings and the fact that my panties were literally on fire. If the combination of embarrassment and lust could kill a person I would have been dead.