Page 55 of Sex Positive

A flush rapidly takes over her chest and neck. His mouth curves, his eyes flicking between her face and the needle in his arm.

“Sure,” she replies, her voice slightly higher. She clears her throat. “I can do that.”

His smile is positively wicked.

She finishes taking his blood, removes the needle, and covers the site with a Band-Aid. He doesn’t speak while she deposits the needle in the sharps container, the tubing in the biohazard bag. But she feels him looking at her, and she knows she’s not imagining the heat in his gaze.

A physical reaction, she reminds herself,to a pleasing stimulus. That’s all.

Pocketing the vials, she retrieves her laptop. “Rachel, our physician assistant, will be in shortly to discuss when you can expect your results and answer any questions.”

He leans back in his chair, as casual as can be.

How aggravating to be affected by a simple blood draw and touchingforearms.

“Anything else you’d like me to mention to her before she comes in?”

He tilts his head, considering. “Victoria isn’t here?”

“Dr. Angelo,” she says, “has the day off.”

“Good for her.” He winks. “I’ll be sure to tell Rachel her medical assistant provides exceptional care.”

His soft chuckle follows Charlie out of the room.

Later, she bites back a smile when Rachel forwards her a five-star review on their website from a W. Q., extolling the wonderful phlebotomy skills of the clinic’s medical assistant.

Fifteen

The third tutoringsession is going…fine.

Though it would be going much better if Wes weren’t intent on destroying the last scrap of her sanity by parading around his apartmentshirtless.

After completing a timed Logical Reasoning practice test, he handed it back to her for grading before disappearing into his bedroom. She was so focused on checking his answers that she didn’t notice until he passed her at the table on his way to the kitchen.

When she did, she nearly choked on her spit.

She tries—tries sohard—not to stare as he stands in front of the open refrigerator, perusing its contents, naked except for a pair of gray joggers slung low on his hips. For years, she’s managed not to replay the memory of herself at eighteen, standing in front of a bare-chested boy she didn’t know. Now it flares to the front of her mind.

Ignoring his physicality and athleticism for the past three years has been easy, since she’s only seen him clothed, and she’s been able to bury her feelings in the deepest hole in her brain. But standing just feet from her now, he is a sight to behold.

He shuts the door and opens a cupboard, each movement revealing a new muscle, his upper body firm and defined. Cords of definition undulate across his chest, his abdominals flexing with the slightest movement. His broad shoulders taper into a lean waist, the lines of his Adonis belt dipping below the waistband of his joggers, a trail of fine blond hair leading down from his navel like an arrow to his cock.

Her mouth goes dry when she spots a tattoo inked on his left shoulder—some kind of Celtic symbol—and then he faces her, holding a bag of Twizzlers. When he catches her stare, a slow, satisfied smile appears on his stupid mouth.

Charlie looks away, her face blazing.

“What are you doing?” she croaks.

“Getting a snack,” he replies.

She grips her pen tighter at the smugness dripping off his words. “I mean…” Charlie clears her throat, willing herself not to spontaneously combust. “Why are you shirtless?”

“I’m hot.” He approaches the table and hovers next to her seat. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

Charlie scoffs. “No. I just find it unnecessary.”

“You’re welcome to join me.”