I threw myself into work the rest of the week. I refused to think about Wyatt, but I dreamt about him every night. I’d wake myself up calling his name and find my hand in my panties halfway to an o****m.
Of course, when I was awake, I had no interest in finishing.
Which meant I was wound tighter than a bow by the weekend.
“Hunter’s coming over and we’re going out to dinner,” Vicki said when I walked into the kitchen for a drink. “Want to come with us?”
I shook my head. “I’m good. Thanks.” I continued into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water.
“Is everything okay with you?”
I nodded. “Of course, why?”
Vicki’s eyes trailed my body, taking in Wyatt’s t-shirt that I never wanted to take off, my thick sweatpants because I was freezing, and my fuzzy slippers. Oh yeah, and my unw
