I lie back down, all the way, turning my head so it was facing him. “What did you fantasize about?”

  “No lady should ever be given a sneak peek into the depraved mind of a teenage boy.” He grunted, his head shaking. “No way I’m opening that door for you.”

  Why in the hell was I so turned on right now? I felt like what resided between my legs had taken over for my brain and was controlling my whole body. All facets led to him.

  My eyes closed so I could try to focus on something other than my hormones. “Ice. We need to ice your ankle.” And I need to ice my libido.

  Soren limped over to the bed, his jaw moving when he stopped at the edge of it. The way he stared at me alone felt capable of making me come undone.

  “Here.” I cleared my throat and slid off the bed. The more vertical I got, the more blood flow seemed to return to my brain, which was so totally counterintuitive.

  Soren took my place on his bed as I shuffled a few pillows behind his back. When he lifted his swollen ankle, I stuffed another pillow beneath it, as gently as I could.

  I caught him smiling at me as I placed one bag of ice over his ankle. “What?”

  One eye squeezed shut as his head shook. “Perv mind.”

  My eyes lifted as I reached for the other bag of ice. “You’re totally picturing me in one of those cosplay nurse outfits, aren’t you?”

  “I totally am.”

  Grumbling, I set the other ice bag on his head, giving his chest a shove. His hand formed around my wrist before I could pull it away.

  “What’s going on?” His voice, like his expression, was different now. All lightness was gone.

  “What do you mean?”

  “This. Tonight. Right now.” His other hand formed around my same wrist, his light eyes connecting with mine. “Something’s different.”

  When I shrugged, he waited.

  How could I explain it? How could I even go about trying to explain it? Putting the way a person felt about another into words was quite possibly the most daunting task known to mankind.

  Instead of trying to explain it with words, I came at it from a different angle. Settling onto the edge of the bed beside him, my hand floated to his chest. I took a moment to memorize the warmth of his skin, the push of his ribcage against my palm as he inhaled. Then I leaned forward, my eyes holding his up until the last moment, when my lips touched his.

  A quick rush of air sucked in through his mouth, right before one of his hands released my wrist to wind around my waist. His mouth moved against mine in slow, deliberate pulses that spurred me into a frenzy of wanting all of him all at once. My hands roamed his body, fingers curling into flesh, palms kneading muscle as they explored him. His hands remained where they were—tied around my wrist and behind my waist—squeezing every time our tongues joined together.

  “Wait.” His head fell back suddenly, his chest moving as hard as mine was. “Just wait.” He gave himself a moment to catch his breath, his hands staying tied around me. “The last time this happened, there wasn’t a verbal explanation of these feelings, and after that whole mess, I really need to hear you say it.” His eyes found mine. There was excitement flashing in them, but also something else. Uncertainty?

  “Say what?” I asked.

  “Whatever you need to. Whatever you’ve been hiding.” He slid a sheet of my hair behind my shoulder, letting his fingers comb through the ends. “I need to hear it this time.”

  I had to look away to form a rational thought. I probably should have moved my hands away from him too, but they felt super-glued into place. “I like you, Soren.” My forehead creased as I tried to make sense of the feelings storming inside me. “As more than a roommate. More than a friend.”

  When I stayed quiet after that, he made a continue motion with his hand.

  This next part required a deep breath to get out. I felt like I was about to unzip my chest and hand my heart over to him. “I have feelings for you.”

  That note of doubt left his eyes. “What kind?”

  “What kind?” I groaned in frustration.

  I slid a foot down the bed to keep temptation from overcoming my better judgment. He was fresh from the shower, wearing nothing more than a towel, and laying in the boyhood bed he’d apparently had filthy fantasies about. Temptation at its most potent.

  “Do you really want me to give you an exhaustive account of them all right now? Because I’d much rather spend the few minutes we have left before dinner kissing you.” I glanced at the time on the alarm clock beside his bed. We couldn’t have much longer before we were expected downstairs. “Would you settle for strong? Strong feelings?”

  Soren’s eyes flicked to the same alarm clock. His grip tightened around me as he pulled me back to him, hoisting me so I was straddling his lap.

  “Strong works for me,” he said in a rush before his mouth crushed against mine.

  My thighs squeezed him as he kissed me in such a way, I felt like we were making love right then. This wasn’t the kiss of a boy making out with a girl. This was the kiss of a man making love to a woman, on the cusp of spending himself inside her.

  When Soren adjusted below me, I felt his erection through the towel. With the way I’d landed on his lap, the hem of my dress had scattered around him, nothing but my underwear and his towel keeping our bodies from joining. When I slid my hips up his length, a ragged sound spilled from his mouth into mine. When I ground back down him, his mouth fell away, his head hitting the pillows behind him.

  “If you do that again, I’m going to lose it.” Soren’s neck went stiff as I rubbed up his shaft again. “I’m going to be that guy who gets off when a girl barely touches him.”

  Realizing how turned on he was had me rocking into him again. “You’ve got a towel close by, at least.”

  Another sound echoed low in his chest, his hips rising to meet mine this time. “I don’t want to get off in a towel. I’ve gotten off in a towel a million times.” He managed to lean up onto his elbows, his hand fitting around my neck so he could pull me toward him. His mouth settled beside my ear. “I want to get off inside you.”

  Chills spilled down my whole body, my thighs squeezing together when his words hit my subconscious. I wanted to have sex with Soren Decker so badly at that moment, it felt like a sickness. The kind that would kill a person if they didn’t find the cure to end it.

  I knew what the cure was in this instance. His body. In mine. Rising and falling together until we came apart in each other’s hold.

  Turning my head so my mouth was near his ear, I pushed against him once more. “I want to feel you get off inside me.”

  When I swiveled my hips over his, a curse hissed through his teeth, followed by another moan. This one wasn’t so muffled.

  “Hey, Butt Munch. Dinner.” The sound of footsteps pounding down the hall. “Is that moaning? Are you jacking off in there?” The door flew open as Michael stepped inside the room. His face ironed out when he took in our position on the bed, right before a warped smile formed. “You devil. I’ll leave you to it.” Michael started backing out the door then stopped. “Hayden, as the first girl to take pity on my brother, let me offer my condolences. Suggestion? You might want to kick the tires and check the motor before you take him for a test drive. Number four. Just saying. All our parents’ good DNA went to us first. He got the leftover scraps.”

  Before he could disappear out the door, Soren had freed a pillow from behind him and sent it flying toward Michael. It nailed him in the back before he got the door slammed.

  “I’m telling Mom you’re playing footsie with a girl in your bedroom.”

  Soren’s head rolled back. “There’s a quick way to kill the mood.”

  Leaning forward, I kissed the red bump the ice pack had fallen off of, then I slid off his lap. As tempting as it was, this wasn’t the time—not when five members of his family were waiting for us around the dinner table. I could tell I was already in his mom’s good graces, and that was a position I’d
like to keep.

  “Clothes.” I picked up his scattered items and handed them to him while he adjusted his towel.

  “Where are you going?” he asked as I headed for the door, making sure my dress was in place and my hair was laying where it was supposed to.

  “Downstairs.”

  “Don’t you want to wait for me? I’ll just take a minute.”

  My hand dropped to the doorknob. “If I stay in this room with you while you attempt to get dressed, it’s going to be just that. An attempt.” My eyes dropped to where he was about to tug his towel loose. His arousal was still tenting the white terry cloth.

  “You’re totally turned on by me right now, aren’t you?” A smirk smoothed into place as his pinkie skimmed beneath the place where his towel was knotted. “I bet if I did this, you wouldn’t be able to control what you did next.”

  I was out the door, sealing it behind me when I heard the wet towel smack the floor.

  Once I was in the hall, I took a few deep, clearing breaths before heading down the stairs. I felt bad that he’d have to make it down the stairs on his own, but it wasn’t like he would have made it down them anytime soon if I’d stayed either.

  Maybe one of his brothers could be coerced into coming up to give him a hand.

  Or not, I thought as I rounded into the kitchen to find them all around the dinner table, nodding at me with stupid smiles and leading me to the conclusion Michael had told them all what he’d walked in on upstairs.

  “Where’s Soren? Still recovering?” Ben asked, trying to keep a straight face.

  I shot him a tight smile. Mr. and Mrs. Decker were nowhere to be found, not that I could blame them with this bunch.

  “Could one of you go help him down the stairs? He hurt his ankle.”

  “Physical harm too?” Michael tipped his chin. “Bad kitty.”

  “You’re how old again, Michael?” I crossed my arms as I marched up to where they were stationed around the table. They were an intimidating bunch, not that I’d let them know it. I might have been biased where Soren was concerned, but the other three hadn’t struck out in the looks department either.

  Michael held out his arms. “Twenty-two.”

  “Hmm,” I mused, looking him over. “It doesn’t show.”’

  The two brothers stationed around him slapped his back.

  “I just ordered my subscription to Vogue,” Michael announced, all formal-like.

  “Sounds like you’ll be in every edition for a while.”

  When I didn’t answer, he lifted something from his lap. It was this month’s edition. Then he flipped it open to a marked page. It was a photo of me, the client being an Asian swimwear company. It looked like the type of swimsuit a person would wear in outer space and the pose wasn’t the least bit provocative, but three sets of eyes devoured it like I was a centerfold.

  “Like Vogue goes well with your Playboys.” Tobin gave Michael a hard enough shove, he almost fell out of the chair.

  When Michael went to push him back, Tobin moved. “Fresh spank bank material is always welcome in my household.” He twisted the magazine around for me to see, his brows moving.

  “You mean your rat-infested flat in Tribeca.”

  “Better than that cardboard box you sold hand jobs for.”

  I was just about to ease out of the kitchen to wait for Soren when the back door opened and Mr. and Mrs. Decker came in. Soren’s dad was holding a tray with a few barbecued chickens, and his mom was holding a package of foil with hot mitts. It smelled like corn on the cob.

  Caroline’s mouth dropped when she noticed the magazine. “Michael, what are you doing with that out? Put that away right now. Hayden’s going to think we’re some kind of stalkers or something and never come back.”

  Michael handed over the magazine when his mom held out her hand. Or hot mitt. She put the magazine up on the fridge, where there were a few other magazines.

  “Soren lets me know what magazines you’re in so I can pick them up when I go to the grocery store,” she explained when she caught me looking. “It’s silly, I know, but it’s just so neat to look at this elegant woman in a fashion magazine and think that’s my son’s roommate.”

  My chest gave a little pang. I hadn’t realized Soren listened when I gushed to him which magazines had campaigns I was in. And here was his mom, making sure to pick up a copy of those magazines just because I was the girl who shared an apartment with her son.

  Although now, I guessed I was more than that.

  “Have I made you totally uncomfortable now? If my sons didn’t already manage to do so?” Caroline set the foil container of corn on the counter, half of her face pulling up.

  My head shook. “You, not at all. Your sons, at least these three? Maybe.”

  The three brothers nudged one another like they were proud of themselves.

  “Hayden.” Mr. Decker approached with an easy smile after setting down the tray of chickens. “I feel like I already know you, but it’s nice to officially meet you.” Like his wife, he gave me a hug instead of a handshake. “Sorry, we’re huggers in this family.”

  I was just shaking my head to show I didn’t mind when a trio of chairs shoved away from the table, three bodies rising right after.

  “You know what? We are a family of huggers.” Ben grinned, moving around the table toward me.

  “Thanks for the timely reminder, Dad,” Tobin added, following his brother.

  That was when someone stepped into the kitchen from the hallway, walking like his ankle wasn’t the size of a small planet. “Take a seat. All three of you,” Soren said, crossing his arms.

  “How’s that ankle doing, sweetheart?” Michael winked at Soren as everyone started to settle around the table.

  Soren made sure I was on the opposite end of the table from his brothers before he slid into the chair beside me. “Better than you’re going to be doing in five seconds if you don’t shut up.”

  “You should come around more often, Hayden.” When Ben reached for the stack of corn Caroline set on the table, she blocked his hand. “You really bring out the testosterone in Soren. Nice to see he’s not really a little girl.”

  “This little girl never had a problem kicking your ass.” Soren scooted his chair a few inches closer to me, his hand finding mine under the table.

  Energy surged from my hand up my arm as I took a moment to wrap my head around the fact that Soren and I had made out, intensely, one floor above, five minutes ago. He was just holding my hand, but I could feel more in that touch. The anticipation of what was to come? The reminder of what already had? The comfort of knowing he was there?

  There was a lot in that palm-to-palm embrace.

  “Soren, I don’t know why you’re acting all King Kong about with your roommate. She’s way too tall for you.” Michael got up and grabbed some beers from the fridge.

  “Yeah, and she’s way too smart for you, shithead.” Soren winced, tipping his head back at where his mom was while I grinned into my drink. He was sensitive on the height/intelligence topic. “Sorry, Mom.”

  She waved it off like trying to get four boys to behave had been a failed endeavor years ago.

  “If she’s so smart—no offense to you, Hayden, all offense directed at the moron to your right—what’s she doing . . . hanging out with you?” The way Michael’s eyes gleamed as he said it left no guessing as to what kind of hanging out he was getting at.

  Soren leaned toward me. “You ever noticed how the bigger the dick, the smaller the penis?”

  “Soren,” his mom chided as she and Mr. Decker carried the giant tray of chicken to the table.

  “Sorry, Mom,” he popped off again, the response trained into him from the sounds of it.

  “It would be nice if we could have a dinner guest over who is able to make it through an entire dinner without arriving at the conclusion that I am an unfit mother based on the way you four talk and behave.” Mrs. Decker gave my back a gentle squeeze before she slid into the chair be
side me.

  “I don’t know about those ones”—my gaze moved down the line of brothers across the table before I nudged the youngest beside me—“but this one turned out pretty great. You’re an awesome mom.”

  Her face softened as she folded her napkin into her lap. “Okay, you’re coming to dinner every Thursday night.”

  “All for this motion,” Tobin boomed in an authoritative tone.

  His brothers stabbed their arms into the air.

  Across the table, Soren waved his middle finger at them.

  Mrs. Decker just sighed. “Behave. All four of you.”

  A chorus of “Sorry, Moms” circled the table.

  “Freezing rain.” Mr. Decker came back in, one last foil packet in his hands. “The grill already had a good crust of ice on it before I got it under the canopy.”

  “Freezing rain? It’s almost April, for Christ’s sake.” Ben groaned, checking the weather app on his phone. “This is supposed to keep up through the night. Great. I’ve got an early morning meeting in the city.”

  “It’s supposed to warm up through the night. You’ll be able to make it back in the morning, but tonight—” Mr. Decker peeked out the kitchen window after setting the foil packet on the empty platter on the table. “Doesn’t look like anyone’s going anywhere unless you’ve got ice skates.”

  I twisted in my seat to look at the same window. “I’ve got a morning meeting too.” It was with one of the campaign managers for the new client I’d booked. I did not want to show up late or not at all to my first meeting with them.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll get you back in time.” Soren’s hand tightened around mine.

  “Why don’t we all eat, and then figure out what to do about this fine, April weather?” Mrs. Decker suggested, opening the other foil packet. It had a heap of marinated red potatoes inside.

  My eyebrows pulled together as I stared at the meal on the table. Soren must have noticed.

  “Mom asked if there was something special you might like for dinner,” he whispered. “I remembered you saying your mom used to make this for your birthday every year—how much you liked it.”

  My eyes burned. “You remembered barbecued chicken, corn on the cob, and roasted red potatoes?” I’d probably mentioned that random fact to him weeks ago, not thinking he’d recall any of it, let alone all of it.