I stared blankly at him.

He picked up a pair of blue cotton briefs. “What’s wrong with these?”

Hopping down from the counter, I grabbed them and tossed them back into the box. “Well, nothing really. Except they look like something my mom would wear.”

“Okay, yeah, you’ve ruined it.”

I laughed, throwing a pair at him. “Ruined what? I’m as lazy as they come, and if not for Chloe I’d probably still be wearing the same pair until the elastic gave out. But no guy actually finds these sexy.”

“You obviously don’t understand a thing about men. Or, specifically, this man.”

I let out a laugh. “I don’t?”

“No,” he said, reaching for a pair of yellow ones. “I’m not scared of periods, and you could walk out in five pairs of the worst underwear known to man, and I would still want to have sex with you.”

“Is that right?”

Will picked up my spoon and the ice cream and took a bite. “Absolutely.”

Twenty minutes later, I walked out of our room—naked except for a white tank and five pairs of the ugliest Ladies’ Days undies I owned—and sat on the couch across from the TV.

Looking up from the box he was taping, Will watched me. “Hiya, Plum.”

I crossed my legs, picked up the remote, and turned on the TV. “William.”

He straightened, placing the tape gun on top of the bookcase, and walked the box over to a stack by the front door. Crossing back to the couch, he sat on the edge of the coffee table across from me. “What are you doing?”

“Just watching TV.”

He looked back at the screen, and then to me again. “But you don’t speak Spanish.”

I blinked over at him with a glare and changed the channel. “I was reading the subtitles.”

Will tilted his head, eyes moving from the tips of my toes back to my face. “You look pretty.”

I wasn’t really sure what I was doing, and was actually starting to sweat a little. Why did I always decide to prove a point first and think about it later?

“Thanks,” I replied.

His hand curved around my ankle, his thumb brushing up and down along the top of my foot. Moving my foot away, I stood, turning toward the kitchen and trying to remember everything Chloe had told me about being sexy. I think I shook my ass, but it probably looked more like I had a charley horse.

“Do you want a beer—” I started to ask, but didn’t make it that far.

Will cracked up, bending over laughing before he tackled me back to the couch. “Are you trying to prove a point here, Plum?”

“Yes!” I shouted, trying to escape. “Admit you don’t think this is sexy. Admit it!”