“Oh. Right.” I snap my mouth shut, cheeks burning. My brain is actively screaming at me to shut up and walk away before I embarrass myself any further, but my mouth didn’t get the memo.
Turner watches me, eyes half-lidded.
Then he sniffs, rubbing the back of his neck like he’s trying to dislodge a thought. “I have to, uh, run some errands,” he says, voice rough.
“Errands,” I repeat, because that’s a safe, normal word that doesn’t involve dicks or getting laid or me accidentally drooling on his abs. “Cool. Like grocery shopping?” Or. “Target?”
“Nah. More like…” He rubs the back of his neck, his biceps flexing in a way that makes my brain go fuzzy. “I have to find a specific kind of piñata for my nephew’s birthday.”
I feel my brows go up. “How specific?”
“It’s from this video game my nephew is obsessed with. Something called ‘Monster Smash.’”
“Monster Smash?” Never heard of it.
“Yup.” Turner sighs, shoulders slumping. “He’s seven and all he’s been talking about is this ‘Smash Lizard’ piñata. Apparently, it’s like—the final boss in the game or some shit.”
I bite down on my bottom lip to keep from laughing. “So, you’re on a mission to find a piñata,” I say, leaning against the counter, arms crossed. “Well, that’s an adorable way to spend the day.”
“His birthday party is next weekend, and this is the one thing I’m in charge of.” Turner’s eyes meet mine. “Wanna come along?”
“Yes,” I blurt out. “I mean—” I clear my throat, trying to play it cool. “Yeah. Sure. Why not?”
Turner’s smile spreads, slow and easy, like he’s relieved.
“Are we talking about, like, a cute little lizard piñata? Or a terrifying, bloodthirsty, video game boss lizard piñata?”
Turner huffs out a laugh, rubbing his jaw, the dark stubble scraping against his palm. “Pretty sure it’s the second one. My older sister sent me a picture, and it looks like Godzilla and a lizard had a baby and then dipped it in neon paint. If I don’tshow up with that stupid lizard piñata, I’m never going to hear the end of it.”
“Aw, look at you,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest and cocking my head. “Such a good uncle.”
Turner rolls his eyes, but there’s a flush creeping up his neck, and I’m 99% sure he’s blushing.Which only makes it worse.
Or better. Or both.
I watch him scratch the back of his neck, all sheepish charm and sweet shyness, telling me about how he’s willing to spend his entire Saturday hunting down a paper lizard so his nephew can obliterate it with a stick during his party.
It’s hot.
Such a turn-on.
My vagina tingles. “Are you going to be wearing that towel the whole time?”
Turner’s eyebrows shoot up. “Why? You want me to?”
No, obviously. Who wouldn’t want to see him prancing around in one?
My face goes nuclear. “I—I didn’t?—”
“I’m fucking with you. I’m going to put clothes on and we can get moving.”
I glance down at my outfit; not cute. Basically pajamas. “I’ll change too.”
He turns and saunters down the hallway, towel still slung dangerously low on his hips, like he has no idea what he’s doing to me. Or he knows exactly what he’s doing to me. Either way, I need to get my head on straight.
I close my bedroom door, leaning back against it and sucking in a deep breath. Okay. Cool. Totally fine. Just going to the party store with my hot roommate to find a hideous piñata while trying not to remember the dream with his dick felt in my mouth.
Totally. Fine.
