Page 36 of Let’s Be Real

She puffed out a breath. “Thanks, Nate. You’re the best.”

I glanced back at my screen. My brothers were still texting. Ben had looked up the types of vines that grew in Colorado and was listing them all, gloating. I texted them good night and put my phone down to charge.

Samantha emerged a few minutes later in a loose, gray T-shirt from her alma mater and men’s striped boxer shorts. Once again, I noticed the sheer length of her legs. I had a couple inches on her in height, but if we were hip to hip, her legs would have probably been much longer than mine.

When she walked, her defined, lithe thigh muscles flexed under her smooth skin.

“Do you work out?” I blurted.

She stopped at the foot of the bed, her mouth parted. “Uh, yes. Of course. Don’t you?”

“Yes, god.” I scrubbed my hands down my face. “Sorry for that. I noticed how defined the muscles in your legs are, and the question popped out.”

“Oh.” She laughed lightly and pointed her toe, flexing her leg. “They look good, right? I’ve been taking spin classes the last couple years. It’s really changed my body. Thanks for noticing.”

“Hard not to,” I mumbled.

Her eyes narrowed. “Nate Wells, do you think I’m hot?”

I closed my eyes. “Am I alive? Of course I do. You know what you look like.”

The bed depressed as she climbed onto her side. I opened my eyes, finding her kneeling, her mouth curved into a satisfied smirk and eyes alight with humor.

“What?” I gruffed, annoyed with myself for opening my mouth.

“I know what I look like. I’m more interested in hearing what you think of how I look.”

“Why?”

With a sigh, she settled on her butt, crisscrossing her legs. “There was a period when I had the most atrocious, disgusting crush on you. I was fifteen or sixteen, and you, of course, never gave me a second glance.”

“You were a kid,” I uttered, surprised and somewhat appalled by the idea.

“Right. You were nineteen or twenty, and I thought you were ungodly hot. Adrian had to ban me from drooling over you. He was so annoyed with me.” She snickered, her cheeks flushing. “By the time I was old enough to even think about doing something about it, you were dating Rosalie. I got over it pretty quickly, but, man…teenage me would probably faint hearing you say you think I’m hot.”

I scrubbed my jaw, unsure how to feel about any of this. “I didn’t say you were hot.”

“Not in so many words, but you agreed with me.”

“Yeah.” I let my gaze rove over her folded legs. “I guess I did.”

Out of nowhere, she flopped back on the bed, squealed, and kicked her feet in the air. It was as confusing as it was adorable.

“What was that?”

She grinned, resettling beside me, her legs stretched out in front of her. “That was for sixteen-year-old Sam. She’s thrilled Nate Wells finally looked at her.”

“I looked at you back then.” I slid my fingers through my hair, giving the strands a sharp tug. “But…you were a kid.”

“No, I know. And I’m glad you only saw me as a kid.” Her nose scrunched. “It would have been really gross otherwise. I don’t want you to think I’ve been pining over you all this time. It was a silly, fun crush that made life more exciting. I’m sure you had plenty of those too.”

I shook my head. “Not really.”

“Then I guess that was just me—boy crazy.” She smoothed her hands down her thighs. “To be fair and honest, I think you’re even hotter now.”

I raised a brow. “Even in my plaid pajamas?”

“Yes.” Her eyes met mine, and something stirred low in my gut. “Especially in the plaid pajamas. You’re always so put together. It’s bracingly intimate seeing this side of you. And it…yeah, it does it for me.”