The Dating Experiment (The Experiment, #2)(54)

“That depends, too. Are we naked in bed watching ice-cream?”

“As a rule, yes. Yes, we are.”

“We don’t have to watch Friends,” she said. “But I’m not watching a totally man-ish show, either. How about a movie?”

“A movie sounds good. What haven’t you seen?”

“The new Avengers.”

I paused. “You only want to watch that for Hemsworth.”

Chloe pulled a tub of ice-cream out of the freezer and shot me a look. “And you’ll watch it for Scarlett Johansson. What’s your point?”

I didn’t have one.

“Let’s watch that.” I grabbed two spoons from the drawer. “Upstairs?”

She nodded. “Let’s go. I can deal with this.” She ran up the stairs, a tub of ice-cream in hand, and I followed her. She was already getting undressed with her back to me by the time I made it into the bedroom, and I paused to watch her.

She was fucking beautiful. From her blonde curls to the bean-shaped birthmark on her lower back.

She paused. “Are you watching me?”

“No. I’m…looking out of the window.”

“So, I’m now transparent and square. Awesome.” She turned to me and put her hands on her hips. “Why are you still clothed?”

“I was busy looking out the window,” I said, putting the spoons on the bed. I pulled my shirt over my head and kicked off my shoes simultaneously. I didn’t miss the way she unabashedly stared at me as I undressed.

“Now who’s staring?”

“Shut up.” She reached over the bed, grabbing the spoons and climbed under the covers. It took her seconds to pull off the lid of the Ben and Jerry’s tub. She dug her spoon in before I’d even unzipped my pants, for the love of God.

“Thanks for waiting for me,” I muttered, kicking off my jeans and sitting on the bed next to her.

“Ice-cream waits for nobody,” she said, spoon in her mouth, and reached for the TV remote.

“Ice-cream, or you?” I questioned, pulling the covers over me.

“Ice-cream,” she said, looking at me. “It melts. Duh.”

She had me there.

“It’s hard to argue with that kind of logic.” I leaned over and stuck my spoon in the tub. Pushing down into the ice-cream, her grip loosened, and she let go of the tub.

“Hey!”

I took it and pulled a huge chunk out of the ice-cream.

She stared, slack-jawed, at the tub. “Why would you do that?”

“How else am I supposed to eat it?” I questioned, putting the spoon in my mouth.

“Slowly and gently.”

“It’s ice-cream. Not a kitten.”

“It’s the best ice-cream,” Chloe said, snatching the tub back. “You can’t just dive into Ben and Jerry’s like a savage. You have to treat it with respect.”

“Again,” I said slowly, “It’s ice-cream, not a kitten.”

She looked down at the tub then back up at me. “This might be a deal-breaker for me.”

“I think you’re insane.”

“Is that how you treat someone who saves you the last piece of pizza?”

I paused. “It is when they think ice-cream is something to be revered.”

“You’re getting real close to sleeping on the floor tonight, Dominic.”

“Is that so you can sleep with the ice-cream?”

She stared at me. “Yes. At least it won’t answer me back like you do. Or eat my last piece of pizza. In fact, I think I’ll be in a relationship with Ben and Jerry’s instead of you.”

I stopped.

She froze. Her eyes widened, and I swear she nearly choked on her own saliva. “I mean—not that we’re, you know. I didn’t…shit.”

I fought back a laugh. “I really want to jump in here, so you don’t dig yourself a deeper hole with that statement, but I want to see you talk your way out of it.”

She licked her lips. “I didn’t, um.” She pushed her hair away from her face and stared at the wall.

I took the tub of ice-cream and started eating. She was too traumatized by what she’d let slip—the big, scary ‘r’ word—to even notice that I was tearing chunks out of the tub.

“I can still see you being mean to my ice-cream,” she said in a small voice.

Maybe she did notice.

Three spoonfuls of ice-cream later, she finally turned back to look at me. “I didn’t mean to imply that we were in a relationship. Because, you know. We haven’t said that.”

“Well, that sucks, then,” I said and licked my spoon. “Because I just assumed we were starting one.”

“You assumed?”

“You agreed to go out with me.”

She shifted so her body was facing me. “I did not agree. I was coerced into it. There’s a difference.”

“So, this is the modern-day Beauty and the Beast, just without the kidnapping. Hey, wasn’t that your favorite movie as a kid?” I pointed the spoon at her.

“What does that have to do with this?”

“Nothing. It just came to mind. Was it?”

“Yes, but—”

“Now, you’re Belle. Coerced into dating me. You’re lucky I have a great sense of humor and an even better cock. And way less hairy than Beast.”