“Oh, sweet balls,” I say to the candy. Hershey, you know exactly what buttons to press. I lick the melted stuff from my fingers and dance in the hallway and unlock the door. Theresa was right. All I needed was some chocolate, orgasm cheesecake, and dress shopping. Sex is the last thing on my mi—

“Hey, babe.” Landon’s voice comes out with a slight musical tune, and I stay frozen in the doorway, staring at his bare chest, his flexed abs, his V, down his hips to his one pair of boxer briefs. He’s sporting a giant bulge, and the ruling lord over the Land of Liz peeks from the waistband as if to say “Hey, babe” as well.

As beautiful as Landon’s body is, it’s not the almost nakedness of him that has me clutching my Symphony Bar. It’s the basket of folded laundry on the table, the smell of cleanser emanating from the bathroom, and the spotless sink he’s currently wiping with a rag.

The Land of Liz should expect a rainy forecast.

“How was your day?” he asks with a wide grin. Damn him, damn him, damn him! I fumble with the chocolate wrapping, shove a large wedge into my mouth, and muffle out a “Great!” Ugh, this candy is doing nothing. I quickly move my gaze and try to find something to turn me off, get me mad, do something, but there aren’t any socks on the floor.

No socks.

Where are his socks?

“Liz?”

“Yearmmhuh?”

“I ordered dinner. I hope that’s all right.”

Dinner. Sweet. Oh so sweet. Clean apartment. Dinner. Half-naked fiancé.

I shove another piece of chocolate in my mouth.

Dinner. Money. Dinner equals money. Money we don’t have. Money. Yes. That’s bad. Bad Landon. He’s not sexy at all. Nope.

The water in the sink shuts off. I hear him move closer to me. Back off, you animal!

“I got a deal from the guy who usually caters for the set. Hope that’s okay. I spent less than ten for delivery, and I checked the account to make sure we won’t overdraft.”

There is not enough chocolate in the world for this.

Strong hands hover over my waist but don’t touch. Minty breath cascades across the skin on my neck.

He brushed his teeth. It’s five in the afternoon, and he brushed his teeth.

“It should be here soon,” he says. “I’m taking the night off from work, so you want to watch a movie with me? Or I could hook up the emulator and we can play old school Mario. I know you love that one.” I hear the smile in his voice, the tease, the flirt, and he’s not even saying anything erotic. But I’m melting into a puddle on our vacuumed floor.

I start licking the candy wrapper.

He laughs, and that’s when it clicks through the horny haze. He’s getting back at me for the prop room and playing dirty.

I pull my tongue from the wrapping and slowly turn around with narrowed eyes. There it is. His I-swear-I’m-innocent smile. My mouth pops open, no words form, but lots of obscenities are going on in my head. So he wants to play. Then play we shall.

His eyebrow rises, just slightly, and I echo his stance.

“Sure.” I toss the wrapper over his shoulder, aiming for the garbage can but seriously doubting I made it, and then I tuck my fingers in the hem of my shirt and pull it over my head. “But let me shower first.”

I give him the same “innocent” smile he’s giving me, widen it when I see his gaze drift over the push-up secret I share with Victoria, and make sure I get as close as I can without touching as I move around him.

“I’ll set stuff up,” he says after my retreating figure. His voice is steady, but it croaks on the last word when I shimmy my jeans off and reveal my thong. That’s right. Two can play, and I’m betting on the one who doesn’t have to spend all day cleaning to win.

Chapter 14

3:12.

In the freaking morning. I haven’t had an ounce of sleep.

Landon shifts next to me, wheezing out a frustrated growl. He gives me the butt, twisting in the sheets. It’s hot in here. I toss the comforter off my upper body and kick and curse and fight the urge to smack Landon’s elbow when it just grazes my arm.

We don’t talk to each other, but we’ve both been awake since we crawled into bed. After playing a sexual battle all night, the striptease just the tip of the iceberg, we gave up and slumped down on the mattress. I don’t know about him, but I keep thinking of ways to sneak into Chocolateville without losing.

My fingers inch up my thigh. Stop that, you wicked things! I smack my hand, sit straight up, and jam them both under my ass. I bury my face in my knees and try to think of the least sexy things imaginable.

My parents. Talk of parents is never allowed in bed. Landon set that rule the first night I moved in. I had crawled under the sheets, he crawled under too, he was kissing my knees and biting up my thighs, and I said, “I can’t believe we’re living together.”

“Shh, no talking,” he teased from under the covers. I playfully trapped his head between my knees.

“This is monumental. You might have lived with the opposite sex before, but this is new to me.”

He chuckled. “If you mean my mom and my sister, then, yes, you would be correct.”

Something jerked in my brain with that, and I laughed to myself, getting extremely giddy as he nibbled his way to my inner thighs.

“My mom’s going to freak.”

He paused, and my mouth kept going.

“I don’t even know how to tell her I’m living with someone. She hasn’t met you. All she knows is I’m totally crazy about you. Are you telling your parents? Or is that not something you tell your parents? They’re bound to find out, right? What if they ‘pop in’? I know they live in Philadelphia, but still…they could show up and expect Jace, and whoops, it’s me instead. I’ll call my mom tomorrow even if I get shit for it and you talk to your—”

“Lizzie?” Landon said, peeking from the covers. He trapped my lips between two fingers. “Never talk about my parents in bed.”

“But—”

“No.”

“But—”

“Never.”

“But…you started it.”

He shook his head and let go of my lips. “I’m ending it, too.”

“Yes, Daddy,” I joked, and he proceeded to tickle me silly. No talk of parents ever crossed the bedsheets again. But I’m seriously considering it now.

“Botflies.”

“What?” I muffle into my pajama bottoms. Landon sits up next to me, the screen on his phone lit.

“We’re watching bot fly videos.”

He holds the phone out and hits play. Two seconds in I’m already cringing.

“Eww. Why—”

“Because I need some damn sleep.”

I flick my gaze to his face, dark circles in the light of his phone, bloodshot eyes, and hair an adorable mess. His shirt is twisted, and the waistband of his boxers is so wrinkled it looks as if he’s been fisting them all night just to keep his hands under control. A sleepy laugh pours from my mouth. I tuck under his arm, keep my hands to myself while he keeps his on his phone in front of us, and we watch disgusting bot fly YouTube videos until the sexual tension dissipates. Only thing is…I still want to touch him, even after the mood is broken.

Tomorrow I’ll get him to cave. But tonight, I’ll settle for the draw.

—

There’s dust on my exercise bike. I sigh, clap my hands, and pull it to the center of the room. I’m out of breath by the time I get it in front of the TV.

“Well, that’s enough exercise for me,” I say to myself and go to set up the rest of the room. I alternate between rolling out a yoga mat and eating my Butterfinger, putting out weights and eating my Butterfinger, and bouncing on my exercise ball and eating my Butterfinger. Now the final touches…the spray bottle to my face, neck, and stomach…and a fan to my nipples to make them perky. I’d use other ways to get them to stand out, but I’m no cheater.