Page 21 of The Hopelessly Bromantic Duet
His answer awakens the beast in me, and I hiss, “You mean everyone, as in, people who are going to come over?”
“Everyone,” he emphasizes.
I grit my teeth as the creature thrashes harder in my chest. “Everyone like…?”
“Everyone likeme,” he says, indignant.
Whew.
Stand down, dragon.
While that’s not an admission that hewon’tbring a dude over, at least he’s picky about bathroom decor for an aesthetic reason rather than a look-tidy-for-a-hookup reason.
And maybe this whole shower curtain persnickety-ness will cure me of my lust. Please, pretty please.
“A classy bathroom sets the mood for the day,” he continues, sweeping an arm out, setting the scene. “You want to walk into the bathroom in the morning, enjoy some nice, fluffy towels, and have a shower curtain that welcomes you.”
I chuckle at hisDownton Abbey-esque description. “It sounds like what you need is a valet.”
“Don’t tease me like that. A bathroom valet is only the height of my fantasies.”
“You and I have very different fantasies,” I say.
Jude grabs my arm, his touch practically singeing me, and I’m right back on the attraction merry-go-round.
Don’t let go of my arm, hottie.
“I assure you, TJ, our fantasies are not that different,” he says, low, sensual, and way too dangerous. “And I have loads offantasies. But I’m speaking specifically of household fantasies. Don’t you have household fantasies?”
Sure, but my household fantasies are more along the lines of fucking him while he’s bent over the counter. Blowing him at the kitchen table, jerking him off behind the shower curtain. “No. I don’t,” I lie.
He lets go of my arm. “Well, I do. And mine include a nice bathroom for getting ready in the morning.”
This must be an actor thing. I’m going to have to go along with it, and hopefully, it’ll dull the shine of Jude Graham.
He waxes on about cheery colors and patterns as he sifts through the selection of shower curtains, picking up a purple one, a plaid one, a green flower one, dismissing each with a careless flick of the finger. “We want something with a little perk.”
“Perky shower curtains,” I repeat, processing this term. “I didn’t know that was a thing.”
“How about something bright and yellow?” Jude suggests.
I wave a hand dismissively at the selection on the shelves. “Sounds fine. Just pick.”
He laughs deeply, veryoh, silly boy. “You didn’t think I was going to let you pick, did you, TJ? If you picked, it’d be something you ordered from Zazzle and with a guy in a bathrobe on it.”
“The dude?” I point to my shirt, the one with the illustration of Jeff Bridges’s iconic character from one of the greatest cult classics ever.
“Yes. Or Tetris,” Jude adds.
Fine, if he’s going to poke at me like that, I can poke back. “You didn’t have a problem with my Tetris shirt last night,” I point out.
Jude slides just an inch closer, lowers his voice. “Actually, I did.”
I put my hands on my hips. “What was the problem?”
His eyes sparkle as he tugs at the fabric of my shirt again. “My problem...” He takes a deliberate pause as he holds the material in those fingers. My blood heats as I imagine those fingers tearing that shirt off me, then traveling down my chest. “Was that it was on.”
I laugh—I wasn’t expecting that. Jude laughs too, then turns away from me, which is for the best. If he keeps looking at me like that, with flirt in his eyes, I just might grab his face and kiss the fuck out of him in the shower curtain aisle at TK Maxx.