A firm believer in "Exes can be friends," Chassie Lewis has proven everyone thinking otherwise wrong. For almost four years now, she's been happily divorced from her ex-husband, Nathaniel Forester. The sparks had flown and crashed between them a lon...
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Chassie George
I want her man.
Nothing good will come out of self-denial. Nothing bad will come out of harmless acceptance to a sleepover either. So, I situated myself in between. I quit wresting with denial, and I'm also building a pillow fort with Ethan in his daddy's living room. It's not the first sleepover invitation, but it was definitely the first that I didn't decline.
"Mommy, we need more pillows and blankets." Ethan tugs my arm as he jumps up and down in a frenzied sugar rush.
I knew we should've settled for a slice of chocolate mousse cake for dessert. But Ethan swindled his daddy out of strawberry shortcake shakes. Then he persuaded an approval out of me with his puppy eyes.
Ethan wrapped his arms around my legs. "Mommy, more pillows. Now."
"Okay. I'll go get more pillows. Stay here. If anything breaks—"
"Don't touch," he supplies, nodding his head hurriedly.
I smiled down to him and ruffled his hair. I exited the living room, did a little pause on the doorway as I see him stomping on the pillows. The fort is not coming together. I headed to the master's bedroom.
"Nathan," I call, pushing the door open. "We're in need of more pillows and blan–holy crap, I'm sorry." I stumbled backward, nearly tripping on my own foot.
Nathan stood in the middle of the master's bedroom. All wet hair and wet impressive flesh. The toned upper body is on display, still glistening from the shower.
He clutched a fluffy towel around his waist. Blue eyes registered shock.
"I'm sorry I should've knocked."
"I'm sorry I should've locked the door."
We blurted at the same time.
My face burned all over. I'm sure as hell I was red. "I was just getting more pillows. I'm sorry, I'll let you cover your, um," I stammered, "everything."
I was about to turn to leave when Ethan's voice carried over all the way to his daddy's bedroom, "Mommy, pillows!"
His eyes flicked to the mountain of pillows on his bed. "My everything can wait. Just grab everything you need."
My cheeks turned lava hot hearing "everything" twice. I tottered over to his bed, holding my breath.
"How's our fort?"
I piled all four pillows. "It's a disaster. To be honest, it needs some of, uh, your touches."
Crap, why do I keep saying the wrong words?
"I don't want to sound needy, but I think I need you in there with—" the rest of my sentence ended with a yelp when I turn around and ran into him. The pillows fell out of my arms, thumping silently on the floor. Without the pillows, I was face to face with his naked chest.
