No Kissing Allowed (No Kissing Allowed #1)(3)

“Ah!” I scrambled out of bed, wearing nothing but a white tank top and barely-there panties, and spun around, my eyes locked on the person in my bed. Memories popped into my head from the night before. Lauren and Grace. The game. The karaoke. The girl kissing me. The UT guy.

Holy shit, the UT guy.

My cheeks warmed at the memory of his lips on mine, on my cheek, my neck, my hand reaching out in invitation as I asked him to come home with me.

Holy shit, I asked him to come home with me.

And unless that dream had manifested into reality or my brain finally had enough and decided to go crazy, here he was. In my bed. Which meant we must have…

“Mom, I’ve gotta call you back.” I hung up the phone, and it immediately rang back. Then when she realized I wasn’t answering, the phone pinged with text after text, each one in all caps, screaming for me to call her back RIGHT THIS SECOND. “Dammit.” I quickly typed out that there was a spider in my room, my eyes still on the man in my bed.

“You.”

“Me.” He grinned up at me, bare chest exposed, my white duvet the only thing covering his lower half. Without his UT hat on, he appeared older than me by a few years—maybe late twenties—and oddly familiar. I tried to remember where I might have met him, but in a city of millions, it could have been anywhere or anytime. Or maybe I’d only seen him on the subway or something. I didn’t know.

“What are you doing here?”

His mouth quirked as he raised his eyebrows as if to say shouldn’t that be obvious?

“I don’t do this.”

“Clearly.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He stretched his arms out behind him, showing off his defined biceps, then pushed out of the bed, causing my heart to jump into my throat, until I realized he wasn’t completely naked. A pair of black boxer briefs covered his ass like they were made just for him. I scowled as I took in his perfectly mussed hair and perfect broad shoulders and unnaturally cut abs. Real people didn’t look like this guy. Real people were scarred and freckled and flawed. And those flaws were part of what made them beautiful. I preferred guys with just the right mix of flaws. Guys with wrinkled clothes, who wore glasses and—

My random thoughts stopped short as UT Guy slipped on his jeans, then reached for his jacket and pulled out a pair of black frames. “I had to toss my contacts last night, so it’s this or I’ll need you to walk me home.” He flashed me a grin, then fixed his glasses in place, and my cell phone fell from my grasp, bouncing once before landing facedown, clearly ashamed of my ogling.

“Glasses?” I wasn’t sure what surprised me more—the glasses or how comfortable he seemed with them on.

He pulled on his shirt and peered over at me. “Yet another reason for that glare of yours? You know, you weren’t nearly so mean last night.”

Last night. My gaze dropped, embarrassment working through me despite my effort to keep it in check. No, I guess he wouldn’t think I was mean last night. I had all but thrown myself at him after that first kiss, desperate for another, and then after an hour of talking and flirting and kissing, I didn’t want the night to end, so I’d invited him home with me. Something I had never once done before.

“I’m not a serial killer or something, if that’s what has you worried.”

“Funny.”

He grinned. “I thought so.” He took a step toward me and I matched it back, causing him to stop. “Why don’t we grab coffee? I can give you a rundown of my résumé. Prove I’m worthy of your time.”

I crossed my arms and stared at him. I’d seen plenty of guys come and go in Lauren’s room, and none of them talked about résumés and proving their worth. The glasses might have given me pause, but I was seeing clearly now, and it was time for this embarrassment to end before I fell for his charm and wound up getting burned. “Actually, I have a lot to do today, so if you could just…” I motioned to the door. How exactly did one end a one-night stand? I mean, shouldn’t he leave without all this conversation?

He opened his mouth to say more, then cocked his head, taking me in, and closed it back. “It was nice meeting you, Cameron. I wouldn’t be sorry if I ran into you again sometime.”

Neither would I, I thought, but then immediately pushed that to the back of my mind. I needed this lapse in judgment out of my apartment, so I could focus on readying myself for Monday morning.

“Thanks for…” I waved my hand at the bed, my face burning so bright it could light all of New York. “That.”

He bit his lip, fighting another smile. “Maybe you could give me your number, see if you’d like me better if we started at hello.” He studied me, and though a part of me was tempted, this wasn’t the kind of relationship I wanted. I liked a guy to earn the naked part. This guy had already passed go, won the game, so what would be the point of starting over? At my hesitation, he nodded. “All right, then, I’ll just head on. Hope to see you around, Cameron.” My body buzzed at the way he said my name, at the reminder of him whispering it against my neck last night. Dear God, it was going to take me days to recover from this. Weeks.

As soon as the door closed behind him, I slumped down on my bed and lay back, brief memories of deep laughter and coy smiles and warm kisses against my cheek. The night might have been reckless, but a part of it was also nice. If only we’d met on different terms, in a different place, a different time, I might have gone to coffee with him. But now I’d end up sitting across from him, picturing him while I wondered if he was picturing me, which would lead to more embarrassment. And I’d had my fix, thanks.