Except she dropped an article of clothing on her way.

He scooped it up, realized he held a lacy bra, and paused.

So of course she turned around to see him holding her underthings.

“You dropped this.”

“Oh, thanks.” She hurried to yank it out of his hand and tossed it into the dryer. “I’m usually losing socks, not bras.”

“Yeah, me too.” He paused. “Um, because I don’t wear them.”

“Good to know.” She laughed at him. “Your face is pretty red right now.”

“As red as yours?” he asked with a smirk.

She crossed her arms over her chest, and he had to work hard to keep his gaze on her face and not dip any lower, remembering how she’d felt against him, how she’d tantalized in her pajama top, how she looked right now, casual yet sexy as hell.

Everything about Justine attracted him, damn it. Talk about some advice he could use right about now: Dear Aunt Truth, how do I keep my relationship casual with the new girl I’m liking more than I should?

He realized she looked to be waiting for something. But her gaze kept dipping to his mouth, and she nibbled her lower lip.

You’re killing me, woman.

She took a step closer, and he smelled something fruity. Delicious. He wanted a taste. Badly.

“So, um, I enjoyed dinner last night,” she finally said, her voice husky.

“Me too.” He looked down at her, some primal part of him enjoying that he was larger and stronger than Justine. “Thanks for tolerating Auggie.”

Her lips quirked, and his heart raced, seeing that humor, that intelligence in her velvety brown eyes and sinking into what felt like a massive crush. So juvenile, yet there it was.

“Your sister was funny. And tough. She’s pretty protective of you.”

“It’s a twin thing.”

Her smile turned sweet. “Truth be told, I’m envious. I wish I had a relationship that close with my own sisters. But I do have Katie, and she’s kind of like my own twin.”

“Katie?” It took a moment, but he remembered the pretty blond who’d been with her when they’d first met. “Oh, the one who called me a dickhead?”

Justine coughed. “I think it was more along the lines of you acting like a dick.”

“Semantics.” He smirked. “Do you think I’m a dick?”

He should stop, because every time he heard the word “dick,” his body seemed to respond, the swelling between his legs telling but fortunately hidden behind his jeans.

“Well, I’d say you were nice but left a not-so-great first impression.” She winked and stared into his eyes with heat.

He’d swear she was flirting with him. So close, glancing up at him as if waiting for him to kiss her.

All the reasons why he should keep his distance faded from his mind, and he shifted closer and lifted a hand to her cheek.

Her eyes widened. “Wh-what?”

“An eyelash.” He pulled his finger back to show her. “Now you’re supposed to make a wish and blow it away.”