“You’re the best,” she tells me.

At least, I think that’s what she says, her voice garbled as she talks around another giant bite of croissant.

Fucking adorable.

“Glad you’ve figured that out. But back to this outfit. You look hot. Not that you don’t always. But this is the first time I’ve gotten to see Sexy Business Holly.”

She rolls her eyes and sticks out her tongue, and I growl in response because I can’t lean over to kiss her without upsetting my tubes.

“You’ll have to return the favor and show me Sexy Business Ben at some point,” she murmurs, setting her snack aside to flip through her textbook.

I’d be happy to dress up for Holly. Maybe our next official date will be to a nice restaurant, and we can both get decked out. I wonder what Sexy, Expensive Dinner-Date Holly looks like. Maybe she’d wear that little black dress from Annabelle’s party.

Next time I see her in that scrap of fabric, I’m not going to hold back. We’ll find a pool table for her to bend over, and I’ll push up the skirt and then slide off whatever lacy underwear she’s got underneath it—

Shit. Now, I’m hard.

With her focused on her notes, I’m able to adjust myself without making it obvious that I was just picturing stripping her. This is a prime example of how different I feel when she’s at my treatments. Before meeting Holly, I would have settled for just not being miserable while sitting in this chair. Now, I’m having vivid fantasies that completely block out the discomfort.

As Holly studies, I can’t help but stare at her rather than the movie. Like the first day we met, she has a highlighter in hand, tapping it on her lip as she scans the pages in her lap. I don’t want to interrupt her, but I get a strong urge to be connected with her, even when her mind is somewhere else.

“Give me your feet.”

She flicks her eyes up to mine. “What?”

“Your feet. Put them in my lap.” If I were able to move around more, I would just scoop them up myself. But, with the situation as it is, I need her to make the first move.

Eyebrows pinched in confusion, Holly shifts forward in her chair before placing her heeled feet on the top of my thighs. Instead of immediately returning to her reading, she watches me.

Slowly, I unbuckle the little straps, sliding each of the shoes off and setting them next to my lounge chair. Then, I set my free hand to work, massaging her arches.

Holly groans. “Oh, that’s heaven.”

I know my grin is smug, but nothing makes me feel like more of a badass than when I give my woman pleasure.

“So, this is just you being nice, right? You don’t have some foot fetish I should know about?” Her expression is serious, but her eyes are laughing.

My grin widens. “What would you do if I did?”