Touch Me Not (Manwhore, #1)(43)

“I just wanted to see your smiling face,” he said, the laughter in his voice apparent. She sounded so grumpy.

“There, you’ve seen it, I need to…”

“Now, now, my little prude,” he interrupted. “It’s either talk with me here, or I come pick you up. Your choice.”

The glare she gave him rivaled the one he’d just leveled at Luther.

“Fine,” she huffed. “What do you want to talk about?”

“You.”

“Me? Why?”

“You’re a fascinating girl, Lily.” That was an understatement. “Stand up.”

“Why?”

He sighed. “Lily, don’t argue, just do as you’re told.”

Lily stood up and his mouth went a little dry. She had on an old Metallica tee shirt and a scrap of white lace panties. Damn. He shouldn’t have asked that, but he was curious to see what she wore to bed.

“Well, at least you’re not wearing granny panties like I assumed,” he said. “You’re a lace girl, huh?”

She sat back down and nodded. “Yeah. I don’t like to feel anything else against my skin. Why would you think I wore granny panties?”

He laughed. “Because you are a prude, Lily.”

“Says the manwhore,” she quipped and tossed her heavy hair over one shoulder. “I bet Luther’s pissed.”

Of course she knew about the pool going around. “He tried to get me to go drinking tonight.”

“Mikey thinks you’ll last three weeks. He’s being generous.”

“And what about you, Lily Bells? How long do you think I’ll last?”

She smiled, and it lit up her face. “I think you’ll go the distance.”

“Why’s that?”

“You want to keep your car as much as I want it.”

Hell yes, he was keeping his baby. He kicked off his shoes and stretched. While the bulge in his pants wasn’t going anywhere, the sound of her voice calmed him. It took the edge off. That irritated him, but he wasn’t going to complain.

A knock at Lily’s door interrupted them, and he watched as she got up and opened it. He couldn’t see around her, but he did hear several girls. They sounded agitated. Lily was shaking her head, and he chuckled at the sound of the girls’ raised voices. Being a floor advisor had to be an adventure in and of itself.

“What was that about?” he asked when she sat back down.

“Nothing,” she said, pulling a book in her lap. “Just teenage girls being teenage girls.”

“How long have you been a floor advisor?”

“Since sophomore year.” She flipped several pages and wrote something down on her notepad.

“Why?”

“Because it pays for my room and board,” she told him, looking up. “After my dad died, it was hard financially, and then when Laney died, it got worse. After Mom married Dave, it got better, but she couldn’t afford to send me to college. I had to pay for it with grants, loans, and scholarships.”

Here was a girl who understood hard work and paying your own way. Another first for him. Most of the girls he knew wanted people to do everything for them. His respect for Lily went up a notch.

“Why do you call me Lily Bells?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “It just popped in my head that first day. Besides, it suits you.”

“My name is Lily Isabella Holmes. I wasn’t sure if you knew that or not, and if you did, how you found out.”

“Nope, sorry, I didn’t know that.”

She shoved her glasses on, and he burst out laughing. She had these old fifties-style black rimmed glasses that screamed nerd. She wound her hair up in a loose knot and settled back, getting comfortable.

“Appreciate the nerdy bookworm,” she told him.

“Oh, I am. She’s sexy as hell.” It was true. Even with those awful glasses on, she was still gorgeous and sexy sitting there in her t-shirt and lace underwear. It made him want to take the scrap of material in his teeth and strip it off her slowly.

“Tell me about Laney.” He needed to distract himself from that thought or he’d never get to sleep.

“What…why?” she asked, her eyes wide.

“Because, Milaya, part of your problems stem from what happened to your sister. You feel guilty. Talking about her will help.”

“What do you want to know?” she asked cautiously.

“Whatever you want to tell me.”

Lily stared at Nikoli’s face and frowned. Talking about her sister wasn’t going to help. It might make it worse. Anytime she thought of her twin, she always got depressed and lonely. She missed her more than anything and wished she could take back that awful day. Talking about Laney hurt.

What if he was right, though? What if not talking about her was part of the problem? Rebekah seemed to think talking about Laney was helping her to forgive herself, and it was easier to talk to him than anyone else about her sister.

“You remember I told you Laney and I were twins?”

He nodded and waited for her to continue.

She smiled. He was as patient with her as her psychiatrist was. Her fingers caught the hem of her t-shirt and started twisting. “When we were little, we did everything together, even finished each other’s sentences. Very twinish. She was a mama’s girl, though, and I was strictly a daddy’s girl. Our personalities were so different, it didn’t matter that we were identical. Anyone could tell us apart.” A grin lit up her face. “Unless we didn’t want them to.”