Her heart fluttered in her chest. “Really?”
“Hell yeah. I need something to keep me busy while I can’t surf.”
Amy wasn’t sure whether to be insulted or not. She held up the books she’d brought. “Since you survived watching the P&P movie, maybe you could try reading a romance. You’re going to be lying around anyway, right?” She hoped her smile packed enough swagger to activate his competitive juices.
To her dismay, Toff winced, squeezing his eyes shut and clutching his midsection, gasping for breath.
Panicked, Amy jumped up from her chair, dropping the books. “What do you need? Pain meds? 911?”
Eyes still closed, he held up his hand and shook his head. “I’ll be okay,” he gasped, “as long as I…don’t”—he spoke haltingly, pausing to take deep breaths—“don’t…have to…to…” He sucked in a huge breath, then squinted up at her like a one-eyed pirate. “As long as I don’t have to read one of those books.” He pointed to the books she’d dropped on the floor, letting loose a deep, rumbling laugh.
“You—you—jerk!” Amy squatted down to retrieve the books. She wanted to throw one at his head. “I thought you were in real pain, Toff.”
The laughter faded from his eyes. “You were really worried about me?”
She stood up, fisting her hands on her hips. “Yes,” she huffed, “but I don’t know why. Everything’s a joke to you.” She gestured toward his midsection. “Even this.”
“That’s not true.” He scrubbed a hand down his face. “I just… I don’t know.” He shrugged. “It’s easier to laugh than, you know…think too much or whatever.”
Amy rolled her eyes. He was the dudiest dude she knew. No wonder he’d never had an actual girlfriend. That would require feelings.
She glanced toward the kitchen. What was taking Viv so long? Turning her back on Toff, Amy headed into the kitchen.
Viv leaned against the counter, phone to her ear. My mom, she mouthed, having a mini meltdown. Viv rolled her eyes as she listened. “Right, Mom. But can’t you find another way to kill him that looks like an accident?”
Amy smiled, her frustration with Toff ebbing slightly. Sometimes Viv talked her mom down from plotting panic attacks.
“Aren’t you supposed to be helping customers?” Viv said. “Give your brain a break, Mom.” She shrugged at Amy and kept talking. “Yeah, he seems okay. Still a pain in the butt. Dallas went to get us pizza.” Viv gave Amy an apologetic smile. Five more minutes, she mouthed.
Amy nodded and headed back to the living room. Toff looked up from the couch.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He smiled sheepishly. “I’m just pissed off, you know? About not being able to surf. Summer just started, and I feel like it’s over already for me.”
She heaved a sigh. It was hard to stay mad at him. He’d had the rug ripped out from underneath him, which had to suck, and to his credit, he hadn’t used his accident to bail on her.
“Can you give me a hand? I need another pillow behind my back.” This time his smile was pitiful, making him look adorable and kissable and slightly pathetic.
She glanced around, grabbed a throw pillow from a chair, then approached Toff cautiously, like he was a lion and she was the tamer. #Tamed, she thought, but she wasn’t going to say it.
Laughter sparked in his eyes. “I’m not gonna bite, Bonnie.” He leaned forward, wincing again, and motioned for her to put the pillow behind him. She moved closer and shoved the pillow into the gap between him and the couch cushion.
“Thanks.” He glanced up, giving her puppy-dog eyes. “One more favor. Can you scratch my back?”
“Wh-What?”
“I can’t reach, and it itches like crazy. Please? I don’t have cooties.”
Cooties was the last thing she was worried about.
“I’m begging you. It feels like an army of ants is crawling up my back.”
He was unbelievable, but she couldn’t abandon him to his imaginary ant army, right? She took a breath and stepped even closer, her knees bumping the couch. “Where?” Her voice came out strangled, which was exactly how she felt.
“Smack in the middle, babe.”
“Don’t call me babe.” Not unless you mean it.
“Oh, I see how it is.” He batted his baby blues at her and flashed his dimples. “You only like it when there’s an audience, like on kniffiti night.”
Heat flooded her cheeks. “That’s not— I don’t—”
“Chill, Ames. I’m just teasing you.”
Tentatively, she reached a hand underneath his shirt, and when her skin touched his, fireworks exploded in her fingertips. His skin was warm and taut over his muscles. He leaned forward to give her better access and made an inappropriate moaning sound—at least that was how she heard it, probably because her mind was in the gutter. That was a downside of reading so many romance novels.
“Harder,” he said as her fingernails scraped his skin. “Lower. Oh yeah. That’s it. Don’t stop.”
Holy Wet-Shirt-Colin-Firth-Darcy. He definitely wasn’t helping her gutter mind.
“You’re too good at this.” Huskiness threaded his voice. “I’m putting you at the top of my contacts list for when I have an itch that needs scratching.”
Amy froze, her hand hovering over him. He had to know how dirty that sounded, right? Heat emanated from his back to her fingers and straight to her chest.
He glanced over his shoulder, eyebrows bunching. “Why’d you stop?”
Because she wanted to throw herself at him? Because she was dying of awkward yet wanted to put her hands everywhere she shouldn’t? Because, Toff Nichols, I am a giant dork and you are a surfing god. And because I’m stupid enough to want you to call me babe and mean it.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Amy scampered away from back-scratching duty just as Viv rejoined them from the kitchen.
“Here.” Amy grabbed the box of cupcakes from the coffee table and shoved it at Toff.
“For me?” His face lit up.
“Yes, from my dad.”
“Y-your dad?” He swallowed, eyeing her anxiously.
Was he still worried about the birthday party incident? That was cute. Sweet. Her heart thudded faster than it should. She toyed with the fringe on her hand-knitted top. “I helped make them, but it was his idea, and he did most of the work.”
“Open it,” Viv said, sitting down and taking a sip of water. “We don’t have all day, Flipper.”
“Not until Amy sits,” Toff said, shifting his legs and pointing to the edge of the couch. She eyed him warily. What was he angling for now? A foot rub?
His face was a mask of innocence, reminding her of the Puck character in one of her favorite fantasy series—a funny and charming troublemaker fairy. She’d always been on Team Puck for that series, but the heroine fell for the broody prince instead.
“C’mon. I need someone to protect me from her.” Toff tilted his chin at Viv.
“No you don’t,” Amy said, but she sat on the couch anyway, blaming his Puck magic.
Toff lifted the cupcake box lid halfway, then stopped, shooting Amy a smirk. “Is there a yarn bomb in here? A raccoon?”
“Very funny.”
He raised the lid, then squeezed his eyes shut, reminding Amy of herself when she was too embarrassed to make eye contact. Wait, was he blushing?
“Cupcakes,” Toff whispered. “Your dad made me…cupcakes.”
Amy nodded, chewing her bottom lip, debating whether or not to laugh.
Toff opened his eyes and exhaled. “Your family is hard-core, Ames, punking me like this. I guess I deserve it.”
“What? No, that’s not what this is,” she protested. “My dad made them because he loves to bake.” She smashed her lips together to hide her smile. “And he, uh, knows you like cupcakes. Obviously.”
&
nbsp; “They aren’t poisoned?” Toff eyed her warily. “Payback for making you cry?”
Viv chucked an empty Gatorade bottle at Toff’s head. “Say thank you, moron. When’s the last time someone baked for you besides my mom? And she only bakes from a box, not from scratch.”
“These look awesome,” Toff said, pulling a cupcake from the box. “Thank you, Amy. And thank your dad for me, too.”
The cupcake was a piece of art in Amy’s opinion, with perfectly swirled mocha icing sprinkled with sparkling sugar, espresso chips, and a tiny bit of lemon zest.
“He’s a pastry chef,” Amy said. “Or was. No, is.” She twisted a loose curl around her finger, frustrated. “My parents are really sorry about your accident. They hope you recover fast.”
“Your dad’s a pastry chef?” Toff’s eyes widened. “Damn, I sure know how to pick a fake ’ship partner.” He shot her a grin before taking a huge bite, closing his eyes and moaning with pleasure as he chewed.
“Gross,” Viv said. “Do that in your bedroom, dude.”
Cheeks burning, Amy glared at Viv, who smirked.
Toff took another bite. “Oh yeah,” he groaned. His tongue darted out to lick frosting off his lips. “So good.” He closed his eyes again, chewing and moaning.
Amy squirmed on the couch. This was worse than his reaction to the back scratching.
“Should we give you and your cupcakes some privacy?” Viv asked, her tone snarky.
Toff’s eyes were at half-mast as he let out a long, satisfied sigh. “You can leave,” he said to Viv. “Amy can stay.” His gaze skimmed her up and down with appreciation. “And I’m not just saying that because you have magic fingers and gave me a foodgasm.”
“Toff!” Viv exploded.
Amy gaped, not believing her own ears.
“What?” He smiled lazily, his eyes glassy. “She did. Gimme another cupcake.”
Viv made huge tell-me-now eyes at Amy.
“I-It’s not what you think,” Amy whispered. “I scratched his back when you were in the kitchen.”
“It was hot,” Toff mumbled, his eyes drifting back to half-mast.
Uh-oh. Was he doped up?
“When’s the last time you took pain meds?” Amy asked. “Or ate anything?”
“Don’t give him an excuse,” Viv huffed.
“Cupcake.” Toff reclined lower on the couch, stretching out his legs and resting his bare feet on Amy’s thighs. “You can feed it to me, Ames.”
Amy gaped at Viv. This was over-the-top, even for him. It had to be the painkillers talking. “Toff, when did you take your medicine?”
He shrugged. “Dunno. Check the fridge.” He yawned, stretching his arms over his head, then turned on his side and curled his hands underneath his chin, reminding Amy of a little boy.
Viv jumped up and ran into the kitchen, returning with a pad of paper. “Almost an hour ago, so it must be kicking in.” She showed the paper to Amy. “His dad’s tracking the times.” Based on the notes, this was his fifth pain pill since the day of the accident. Mostly he’d been taking Advil.
“I’m calling Dallas.” Viv whipped out her phone. “Toff’s dad gave him specific instructions. Maybe you’re right and Toff needs more food in his system.” She left the room, leaving Amy alone with dopey Toff.
“Pizza!” Toff exclaimed, only it came out slurred, like “pzzzaa.” He stared at Amy, his eyes hooded. “Youalmoskizzme,” he said, his words sounding like a slowed-down recording. “Imyvan. Bookfazze.” He yawned again, nestling into the couch pillows. “Izokay. I almost kissed you.”
Amy’s heart thudded. That sentence was clear as day.
He struggled to open his eyes, lids fluttering, then gave up with a sleepy sigh, letting them drift closed. Had the sugar combined with the meds sent him into a food coma? “Kissgood,” he mumbled. “Me.” He sighed again. “Yullseee.”
Amy blinked in surprise. “You’ll see?” Was that what he meant to say—that she’d see what a good kisser he was?
A soft snore blew from his lips.
Amy didn’t know whether to laugh or scream. She was trapped. He’d scooted down the couch, and now his legs pinned her to the cushions. Viv laughed from the kitchen, on the phone with Dallas, the sudden sound startling Toff, whose legs twitched on her lap. His legs were strong. Toned. Tanned.
“Cuckakes,” he slurred. “Sweet. Mmm. Wanmore.”
Oh no. He was moaning again. He couldn’t be… This wasn’t… Didn’t guys…when they were asleep?
She needed to get off this couch, stat. Maybe she could lift his legs and slide out. Carefully, she slid her hands underneath his calves. His muscles tensed, then relaxed in her grip. Another soft groan escaped his lips.
Dear God.
What was taking Viv so long? She heard the fridge open and close, then another laugh. Dallas must not be worried about Toff’s condition, which reassured Amy. Dallas was the mature one in their BROTP, no question.
Amy exhaled deeply, allowing herself a leisurely perusal of the invalid. She’d never been this up close and personal with Toff, that was for sure—well, except for his back, but that had been quick. She focused on his face. Long golden eyelashes. Mostly straight nose. Full, pouty lips. Strong jaw with a dusting of blond stubble.
Should she shove his legs off her lap and escape? That seemed unnecessarily mean. Toff was in pain. Tired. It wasn’t like she had anywhere else to be. And she wasn’t uncomfortable. His weight on her was…warm. Heavy. Nice. And he’d stopped moaning, so they’d survived the danger zone of, um…whatever.
Amy glanced at the coffee table. Those cupcakes were calling her name. Slowly, she moved her hands out from underneath Toff’s legs, intending to reach for the box. He frowned in his sleep, pinning her against the couch like he didn’t want her to leave. Smothering a laugh, she rested her head against the back of the couch and closed her eyes, willing her heart rate to slow.
It didn’t.
At the sound of Viv’s approaching footsteps, Amy opened her eyes. Before Viv could make a fuss, Amy shook her head. Another soft snore escaped Toff.
“I’m trapped,” Amy whispered.
Viv rolled her eyes, but at least she didn’t look mad. “Dallas says not to worry,” she whispered, plopping onto the floor on the other side of the coffee table. “He says it’s normal with pain meds. He’s on his way.” Viv pointed to the cupcake box and grinned at Amy. “Want one?”
Amy nodded enthusiastically.
Viv handed her a cupcake, shooting Toff a frustrated look as she leaned over the table. “Everyone spoils him,” she said, “including you.”
Amy shrugged, her cheeks heating. Guilty as charged.
“Omigod,” Viv said, biting into her cupcake. “So good.”
“I know.” Amy licked frosting off the top of the cupcake like a little kid.
Toff mumbled in his sleep. Amy and Viv paused to listen, but his voice was too slurred to make sense of his words. They ate in silence, devouring their cupcakes until a familiar buzzing noise sounded outside—Dallas’s Vespa.
Amy breathed a sigh of relief. Now that he was here, she’d make her escape. She glanced at Toff’s angelic face. He looked so innocent while he slept. Maybe she’d stay a little bit longer.
Viv stood up, brushing off cupcake crumbs. “I’ll go help Dallas with the pizza,” she said, then left the room.
“Dongobeebee,” Toff murmured.
Don’t go? Don’t go, Bebe? Bonnie?
“Stayme.”
Stay? Stay with me? Stay, Amy?
Dallas and Viv stumbled into the living room, whispering. Dallas grinned when he took in the scene. He focused his sharp gaze on Amy, more specifically on Toff lying on top of her. Well, sort of lying on top of her. Dallas’s eye twitched. Wait. Did he just wink at her?
“Mmm,” Toff mumbled. “Prronii.”
Viv, Amy, and Dallas shared an amused look.
“Pepperoni?” Amy asked, and Dallas nodded. He set the pizza box on the cluttered coffee table while Viv went into the kitchen for plates.
“You’re sure he’s okay?” Amy asked Dallas. “He didn’t OD?”
Dallas laughed softly. “He’s fine.” He stared pointedly at Toff’s legs draped over her. “You want to stay like that? Or do you want to escape?”
“Noscape.” Toff burrowed deeper into the couch, his strong legs anchoring her in place. “Stayme.”
“Percocet is like a truth serum,” Dallas said with a wry grin. “What else has he said?”
“Kizzames,” Toff said softly. “Kniffiti.”
Well, that word was clear as day, too. Amy’s eyes widened in surprise, and Dallas’s shoulders shook with suppressed laughter.
“I’d love to see him hypnotized,” Dallas said, sitting cross-legged on the floor. “He’d give away the nuclear codes.”
“Gebackereames,” Toff slurred, his feet twitching like he was running.
Dallas cocked a questioning eyebrow.
Get back here, Ames. For whatever reason, she understood him perfectly.
Dallas grinned, pulled his phone from his pocket, and snapped a bunch of photos of her and Toff.
“Dallas!” Amy whispered, embarrassed. “What are you doing?”
“Don’t worry. It’s not going online.” He glanced at her. “For Toff’s eyes only. To remind him to eat before taking pain pills.”
“Oh.”
“Hmm,” Dallas said, thumbing through the photos. “If body language means anything, he’s interested in being a lot more than your coach.” He flashed her a sly grin, and heat flooded Amy’s face.
“He’s just doped up,” Amy said.
Toff was a master flirt, a master game player. Talking in his sleep didn’t mean anything. She needed to remember he really was like Puck, the prankster fairy flitting in and out of people’s lives, bringing the fun, stirring up trouble, like the real Puck did in A Midsummer Night’s Dream with his love potion. Fairies always moved on to the next shiny object that caught their attention…or the next innocent human they could seduce with their fae magic.
The Bookworm Crush Page 15