Hotter Than Ever

“Is there a reason your face just turned redder than a fire engine?” Aidan teased.

She gulped. “I was just wondering if…uh, did Dylan tell you what happened last night?”

“Hmmm, he did not. Why don’t you fill me in?”

Aidan walked to the counter and set a plate in front of her. The aroma of bacon and eggs floated into her nose, and when her stomach didn’t churn with sickness, she realized that, miraculously, she really had managed to avoid a hangover.

She accepted the fork he handed her and speared into some eggs, avoiding his eyes. “It wasn’t a big deal. I just kissed him.”

He didn’t answer.

In fact, he stayed quiet for so long that Claire had no choice but to lift her head so she could study his expression. What she saw in his dark eyes wasn’t betrayal or outrage, but genuine interest.

Aidan dragged one of the stools around the counter so they were sitting across from each other. “Huh, he failed to mention that to me.”

Claire sighed. “Don’t be mad at him. I’m sure he was just too horrified and disgusted to want to talk about it.”

Popping a strip of bacon into his mouth, Aidan chewed for a few seconds, then said, “Shit, I didn’t get us any drinks. You want OJ, water or coffee?”

“Coffee.” Confused by his unfazed reaction, she watched him make his way over to the coffeemaker, which he’d clicked on when he was cooking. “So, wait, you’re not mad? You don’t care that your boyfriend kissed someone else?”

“Boyfriend probably isn’t the right word,” Aidan admitted as he returned to the counter with two cups of coffee. “We’re…friends.”

“With benefits,” she pointed out. “I mean, you sleep together.”

“Yeah.” He shot her that dimpled grin of his. “We don’t share a room, though. That son of a bitch is a major blanket hog.”

His words instantly produced the image of the two men sleeping in the same bed, which succeeded in getting her all hot and achy. They must have tried that particular sleeping arrangement at least once in order for Aidan to know that Dylan stole the blanket, and her pulse sped up at the thought of their tanned, muscular bodies entwined together between the sheets.

“You’re doing it again,” Aidan teased.

“Doing what?”

“Blushing.”

“You seem to have that effect on me, I guess.” Casting her gaze downward, she focused on eating her breakfast. Well, brunch, seeing as it was past noon.

“So how was it? Did you like kissing him?”

His mocking inquiry sent a shiver rolling through her. “It was okay,” she lied.

He responded with a deep laugh. “Bullshit. Dylan’s a damn good kisser. I bet you were turned on like nobody’s business.”

The memory of Dylan’s rock-hard erection grinding against her pelvis flashed through Claire’s head. Her core clenched. Nipples tingled, hardened and poked into her sports bra. Ah crap. Why had she chosen to wear a cotton sports bra? There was no way Aidan would be able to miss the outline of her ni**les through her shirt.

From the way his gaze burned with desire, she knew he’d noticed, all right.

“I was drunk,” she said. “Everything feels good when you’re drunk. But believe me when I say it won’t happen again.”

“I’m still not sure why it happened in the first place.”

“I, uh, wanted to see if you guys are really attracted to women.”

There was a beat. Then he burst out laughing. “You needed empirical evidence, huh? Couldn’t just take our word for it.”

“Like I said, I don’t think much of Dylan’s word.”

They both fell silent as they finished their food, but it was a comfortable silence, free of tension and long enough for Claire’s embarrassment to slowly fade away. Aidan didn’t seem to care that she’d kissed Dylan, so maybe she didn’t need to make a big deal about it, either. So what if she’d made out with Chris’s brother? It had been a drunken, foolish error in judgment, never to be repeated.

Across from her, Aidan raised his cup to his lips and sipped his coffee, drawing her gaze to his mouth. God, he had such a sensual mouth, so very sexy, but there were no laugh lines around it. It was odd—she got the feeling he didn’t laugh very often, and yet the sound of his laughter had already echoed in the kitchen several times today.

“I need to ask you a question,” he said suddenly.

She wrinkled her forehead. “Um, shoot?”

“How do you feel about football?”

The random query sparked a laugh. “I love it,” she confessed. “Football is about all my dad and I have in common. When I was growing up, we would watch the games together every Sunday. My mom would bake cookies for us and stay out of our way.” She smiled at him. “Is that the right answer?”

His answering smile caused those cute dimples to pop out. “Definitely the right answer. But tell me this, who do you root for?”

“The Niners. Duh.”

His expression turned grave. “Uh-oh. Now that was the wrong answer. There’s only one team worth rooting for, and that’s the Bears.”

“No self-respecting San Franciscan would cheer for any team other than the Niners, and especially not an east-coast team. Jeez, Aidan.”

“You know, Dylan is a Niners fan too,” he told her, arching his eyebrows. “So maybe you two have more in common than you think.”