4. Brodie
What I wouldn’t do to have Lizzy sitting on my fucking face.
All her best parts are inches away, ass wiggling as she struggles to get a grip on the windowsill so she can push it up, finally managing to grip the glass with her fingertips.
She pushes up.
I look down at the ground.
“Open it as much as you can,” I coach her. “Dude needs to be able to see that it’s open and smell the fresh air.”
“’Kay.”
She gives the window another forceful shove, prying it open at least twelve inches before we’re confident it’s enough room, and I lower her to the ground.
“Your…” I point at the robe.
Her robe is hiked around her waist, the belt undone, the fabric falling away from her body, my eyes seeing things I hadn’t thought I’d see when I stepped out onto my porch tonight: pink flesh, boobs, waist, smooth thighs, and her?—
She glances down her body. “Oh shit.”
Lizzy turns her back to me, making fast work of retying, tightening, and adjusting her robe so I’m no longer getting a free show—only that accidental glimpse of her ass cheeks earlier and a peek of her pussy, my hands aching to palm them both.
“Thanks for helping me.” Lizzy smiles up at me. “This was a fun way to meet the neighbors, eh?”
“The super funnest way.”
She lets out a puff of air. “So. Now what do we do?”
“We?” My heart kicks up a notch, beginning a rhythmic thump inside my chest, buh bum, buh bum, buh bum…
“You’re coming inside, right? I don’t want to be stuck in there by myself.” She worries her bottom lip again, something she’d done earlier when we were inside the house.
“You’re fine.”
When I begin walking back toward the front yard, she hastens to catch up, objecting the entire way. “But. You’re not going to leave me here, are you?”
“You live here.”
“I know, but I don’t want to be alone!”
The thought of being holed up inside that house—the one that smells like apples and caramel—is enough to send me hightailing it back to my front yard.
“Nothing is going to happen, Lizzy—just stay out of your room, keep the door closed. There’s no way it can escape unless it goes out the window.”
As if on cue, her curtains billow in the breeze.
“But. But I’m in my bathrobe, and all my clothes are inside my room.” She gestures wildly to her pink wrap, the outline of her tits clearly visible.
Hard nipples, too.
“Is that all you’re worried about? Borrow something from your roommates.”
Problem solved.
“Oh yeah—duh. Good point.” We’re between her yard and mine when she stops. “But where am I going to sleep?”
“The couch?”
“I can’t be in there alone.” She sounds genuinely distraught, following me as I head back toward my house. “What should I do?”
“It’s just a squirrel. It’s not going to hurt you.” I say it gently since she’s visibly upset.
“How would you know? Have you ever had a squirrel loose in your house?” she asks.
“No. But I’ve had a bat in my house once.”
Her eyes get wide. “You’ve had a bat in your house?”
I shrug. “My parents’ house. At the lake.”
“Oh.” She laughs. “Your parents’ house at the lake. How lovely.” Another moment of silence. “What happened to the bat?”
“I don’t know, I was little.” I laugh. “My mom freaked out, and they sold the house. She would have burned it to the ground if my dad had let her.”
“Because of one bat?”
“I guess. Like I said, I was young and don’t remember much of the details.”
“Well. I haven’t, and I’m still freaking out. Like, I’ll know it’s there…” She shivers, and I do too, because I’m not exactly dressed for this cold front that’s decided to move in while we were fucking around with the window.
“Or. Maybe it’ll go out the window soon and be gone before you know it.”
“But now I have that hole in my drywall! What if it has friends?”
It definitely probably has friends, but I’m not dumb enough to say it out loud.
I scratch my chin. “You should text someone about that. Your landlord.”
“We did. My roommate took his number off the fridge and left him about fifty messages.”
“Well, make sure she texts him about the new hole in your wall.”
“I will.” Lizzy nods along as she follows me like a puppy dog. “I know you don’t know me at all, but I really don’t want to be alone. Can’t you just…” She lifts her hands, beseeching. “Stay with me?”
I want to, I really do.
Lizzy Campbell is my literal, walking wet dream come true.
I would give my left testicle to date her.
But staying with her because she has a squirrel in her room? This was not the way I envisioned sweeping her off her feet—not that I’d planned to sweep her off her feet.
Well, now is your chance, you fucking moron.
The universe is providing me with the opportunity, and I’m standing here with my limp dick in my hand, telling her to go home by herself and deal with it.
Goddamn, you’re an idiot.
We’re at my front porch, the lights from inside shining and casting a glow on the floorboards, and only one of my roommates is home. The other two are at the ice rink running drills, something I should be doing. But I got lazy, and for once, instead of running my body ragged, I took the afternoon off.
“Please, Brodie.”
Please, Brodie.
It comes out breathy and begging, and damn if the words don’t sound sexy as hell, even though she isn’t trying to sound sexy as hell.
Down boy.
She hasn’t looked twice at you since the day she moved in.
Only this time, she’s desperate.
You’re not.