Shay met me at the back door.
I texted him when I was walking up the driveway, and I’d taken one step onto the patio before the door opened. He stood there, wearing those same sweatpants that rode sinfully low on his hips. He had a shirt on, barring the view that I knew was there, and ran a hand through his hair. He gave me a crooked grin. “Have you had dinner yet?”
He moved back, and I stepped inside.
We were close, and he brushed against me, reaching around to close the door. I started to shake my head, but as he touched me, other sensations were already overriding the tightness in my stomach. That second class had been okay, but there were two assholes with smart comments. I sniped back, but I hadn’t shut them up. I only pushed off another verbal attack that would probably come Wedne
