of the
paintings were his own work.
Carrie looked
around in silence.
“Well?” Matt
demanded, after a minute.
She released a
breath of laughter. “I like it. It looks like you.”
“How does it
look like me?”
“It’s gorgeous
and creative and sexy and…I don’t know…really smart.”
He appeared
surprised and pleased with her conclusion, but he covered it with familiar
irony. “How exactly can an apartment be smart?”
“It just is.”
She chugged down some of the water, wiping away a little that dribbled onto her
chin.
He was watching
her with that look of intense scrutiny, like he was reading too many of her
thoughts and feelings. “Then my apartment looks like you too.”
“What? I’m not
as smart as you.”
He shook his
head. “You’re smarter than me.”
“I am not—”
“I can do one
thing really well, but you’re smarter than me in almost every way. I never did
well in school.”
She thought
about what he said—partly pleased by the way he’d affirmed her and partly upset
about how he might be putting himself down. “That must be because you didn’t
try very hard. Anyone who uses words as well as you is obviously really smart.”
“Maybe.” He
shrugged, as if his own intelligence didn’t really matter to him. “But you’re
smarter. Which is why you should really go back to college.”
She jerked,
surprised by the turn of conversation. “Don’t start that again. You can’t make
a conversation about your apartment turn into a lecture about—”
“Not a lecture.
Just a comment.”
“Fine. When you
start painting again, then I’ll go back to college.” She thought she’d found an
exceptionally good way to shut him up, since he hadn’t painted in two years.
He had another
strange expression—one she had no way to decipher. “Deal,” was all he said. He
slid both hands around her ribcage and pulled her closer to him, leaning down
to kiss her softly.
Feeling close
to him, despite the odd conversation, she wrapped her arms around his neck.
“You’re just as sexy as your apartment,” she said between kisses.
He laughed
against her lips. “That’s the strangest compliment I’ve ever gotten.”
“Maybe we
should check out the bedroom, just to make sure it’s as sexy as the rest of the
place.” She pulled away, keeping only her hand in his, and turned to peer at
the doors leading off the main room. “Is that one the bedroom?”
“Yeah, but we
don’t have to head straight there.”
She looked back
at him, surprised at his hesitation, since sex was what they normally did. Then
she figured out an explanation and slid her free hand down his chest until it found
his hardening groin. “I guess doing it in the dressing room of the store raised
the bar for creative sex locations. What were you thinking? The kitchen? The
balcony?” She massaged his groin, loving how his breath hitched in response.
“That’s not what
I meant,” he said, pulling her hand away with obvious reluctance. “I just meant
we don’t have to jump right into bed. It’s not all about sex.”
Her frown
deepened as she looked at his slightly frustrated expression. “Okay.” She
really shouldn’t have drunk so much. She was completely disoriented, had no
idea what was going on. They’d always headed right for the bed before.
She finished
off her water, hoping the hydration would help. Then she said, “I want to look
at the rest of the place anyway.”
She wandered
through the living area, poked her head into the bathroom, looked out onto the
balcony, and tried not to be jealous of such a great apartment.
There was one
more door that she assumed was a closet. She was reaching for the knob when
Matt came up behind her and slid a hand around her waist. “You don’t need to
look in there.”
“Why not? Is it
a closet stuffed full of junk? Because I have one of those too, and it’s
nothing to be embarrassed about.”
He smiled, but
he kept holding her back when she tried to
paintings were his own work.
Carrie looked
around in silence.
“Well?” Matt
demanded, after a minute.
She released a
breath of laughter. “I like it. It looks like you.”
“How does it
look like me?”
“It’s gorgeous
and creative and sexy and…I don’t know…really smart.”
He appeared
surprised and pleased with her conclusion, but he covered it with familiar
irony. “How exactly can an apartment be smart?”
“It just is.”
She chugged down some of the water, wiping away a little that dribbled onto her
chin.
He was watching
her with that look of intense scrutiny, like he was reading too many of her
thoughts and feelings. “Then my apartment looks like you too.”
“What? I’m not
as smart as you.”
He shook his
head. “You’re smarter than me.”
“I am not—”
“I can do one
thing really well, but you’re smarter than me in almost every way. I never did
well in school.”
She thought
about what he said—partly pleased by the way he’d affirmed her and partly upset
about how he might be putting himself down. “That must be because you didn’t
try very hard. Anyone who uses words as well as you is obviously really smart.”
“Maybe.” He
shrugged, as if his own intelligence didn’t really matter to him. “But you’re
smarter. Which is why you should really go back to college.”
She jerked,
surprised by the turn of conversation. “Don’t start that again. You can’t make
a conversation about your apartment turn into a lecture about—”
“Not a lecture.
Just a comment.”
“Fine. When you
start painting again, then I’ll go back to college.” She thought she’d found an
exceptionally good way to shut him up, since he hadn’t painted in two years.
He had another
strange expression—one she had no way to decipher. “Deal,” was all he said. He
slid both hands around her ribcage and pulled her closer to him, leaning down
to kiss her softly.
Feeling close
to him, despite the odd conversation, she wrapped her arms around his neck.
“You’re just as sexy as your apartment,” she said between kisses.
He laughed
against her lips. “That’s the strangest compliment I’ve ever gotten.”
“Maybe we
should check out the bedroom, just to make sure it’s as sexy as the rest of the
place.” She pulled away, keeping only her hand in his, and turned to peer at
the doors leading off the main room. “Is that one the bedroom?”
“Yeah, but we
don’t have to head straight there.”
She looked back
at him, surprised at his hesitation, since sex was what they normally did. Then
she figured out an explanation and slid her free hand down his chest until it found
his hardening groin. “I guess doing it in the dressing room of the store raised
the bar for creative sex locations. What were you thinking? The kitchen? The
balcony?” She massaged his groin, loving how his breath hitched in response.
“That’s not what
I meant,” he said, pulling her hand away with obvious reluctance. “I just meant
we don’t have to jump right into bed. It’s not all about sex.”
Her frown
deepened as she looked at his slightly frustrated expression. “Okay.” She
really shouldn’t have drunk so much. She was completely disoriented, had no
idea what was going on. They’d always headed right for the bed before.
She finished
off her water, hoping the hydration would help. Then she said, “I want to look
at the rest of the place anyway.”
She wandered
through the living area, poked her head into the bathroom, looked out onto the
balcony, and tried not to be jealous of such a great apartment.
There was one
more door that she assumed was a closet. She was reaching for the knob when
Matt came up behind her and slid a hand around her waist. “You don’t need to
look in there.”
“Why not? Is it
a closet stuffed full of junk? Because I have one of those too, and it’s
nothing to be embarrassed about.”
He smiled, but
he kept holding her back when she tried to
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