“Hey, sometimes baseball just does it for people.” She gave me a sexy-as-hell smile. “It’s not your fault you like balls.”

“I can’t believe you just challenged my manhood when it’s saluting you like that. Damn, woman, I’m basically giving you the equivalent of a high five and a home run all in one and you’re making jokes?”

“It’s what I do best. Joke when I’m uncomfortable.”

“I think out of the two of us,” I said, grabbing her hands and placing them on my shirt, “I’m the one who’s uncomfortable. Wanna know why?”

Her face fell.

“Because I’m still dressed and you’re gloriously”—I kissed her mouth, teasing my tongue against its entrance—“naked.”

“I still have panties on.”

I gripped the black boy shorts in my hand and gave a hard tug. “A horrible oversight on my part.”

She gasped.

“Don’t look so shocked.” I backed her up against the wall. “Now, you have two choices.”

“I’m listening.”

I caressed the side of her face with the back of my hand. “You either go pour your wine . . . put on your sweats, turn on New Girl, and read.” I cleared my throat. “Or, you let me take you into my bedroom. Lay you down on my bed. And let me show you what I do best.”

“Sleep?” She winked.

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead. So as long as I’m living . . . I better make good use of what I’ve been given, right?” I flicked her mouth with my tongue and pressed a series of soft kisses, alternating between teasing her lips and running my mouth up and down her neck. “Say yes.”

“Yes.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

JORDAN

I should have said no.

But his hands.

That body.

Those eyes.

And even more than that? No man had ever made me feel wanted. I’d spent my life fixing other people’s problems, living in the background, blending in. And for the first time, I didn’t want to blend.

I wanted color.

God help me. I wanted Reid Emory.

It was a horrible idea. For one thing, we were working together. It wasn’t like I could do the walk of shame a few feet back to my room and drown my sorrows in a pint of ice cream. I still hadn’t found an apartment and I really would be homeless if Reid kicked me out.

My job was to make him look good.

Keep him in the limelight.

And here I was, getting distracted by a six-pack and a movie-star smile. He was an actor. How hard would it be for him to act like he wanted me when he really didn’t? Maybe he was just being horny.

And I was available.

My shoulders slumped more as Reid hurried me into his bedroom.

“I can’t.” I swallowed, once more covering myself up while he came up behind me and kissed my neck. “I can’t do this.”

“Okay.”

Seriously? Now he didn’t want me at all? “That’s it? Just okay?”

He flipped me around and tilted my chin toward him. “I’m not going to force you into having sex with me if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m not that guy. Just like you’re not the lights-off girl.” Reid wrapped his arms around my body. “When was the last time you let a man look at you . . . in the light?”

“Never.”

“So . . . I’ll tell you what.” Reid’s smile was so gorgeous I had to look away. So tender it made my heart clench. “Even though I’m paying you, you’re still doing me a favor by being my publicist, making sure that my career doesn’t tank on account of my brother being certifiably insane, and you’ve cheerfully gone along with this whole charade.”

Ugh, my stomach sank. Again, he kissed me because I was available.

“I’m going to teach you how to love yourself.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not insecure. I’m a realist.”

“Turn around.”

“No. Reid. We’ve had a lot to drink, I’m just going to shuffle off to bed and—”

Reid gripped my arm and dragged me into the bathroom. Flipping on the lights, he turned me toward the mirror. “What do you see?”

“Boobs.”

“You aren’t a horny thirteen-year-old boy. What do you really see?”

Honestly? I saw a lot of what I didn’t want to see. I saw flaws. So many of them, even with his killer lighting. My shame got worse as I realized my hips were wider than his. I mean, I’m a girl. I get that big hips equal childbirth, but still, it made me want to disappear into the floor. I was all curves.

I saw a scar on my stomach from when I got my appendix out.

A bit of cellulite on my thighs.

Breasts that were too big for my taste.

And a stomach that was only flat because I was sucking it in.

“Reid, this night stopped being fun about five seconds ago.”

He ignored me. “Soft . . . perfect . . . supple skin.” He ran his fingers down my ribs. “Breasts that render a man incapable of focusing on anything else.” He shook his head, his breathing heavier as his mouth landed near my ear. “And hips that my hands itch to grip, to thrust into . . . A lights-off girl? Hell, no. You’re a spotlight girl. You just need to stop looking through your eyes and use mine.”

I choked back the emotion in my throat. Things went from playful to real in that moment, and I wasn’t sure I could handle it if he didn’t really mean it. If it was fake.