Moody stopped in his tracks and gestured wildly at me. “Look at you. You’re hopelessly handsome, seemingly intelligent, charming without trying too hard, and though of course, I can’t be sure of this, the substantial bulge in your jeans indicates you also possess a large penis. I see no downside whatsoever. So…enlighten me, please. What on earth was your ex-fiancée thinking?”

Yeah, I had nothing.

I stood there, speechless, unsure where to begin. The breakdown of the wedding that didn’t happen, the ex

whose name I could barely remember after an evening with Moody, the fact that he was interested in me…all of it.

But I started with the easy stuff.

“My dick is larger than average.”

Holy shit. Really, Hudson? Really?

We stared at each other, the air suddenly thick and potent with desire. Maybe that was all on me, but no—no, it wasn’t. He wanted me.

Moody stepped closer. “I believe you. I’m about to utter words that I may regret in the morning, but I don’t think I can stop myself.”

“What kind of words?” Christ, was my voice always this deep?

“Show me.”

I swallowed hard. “Show you…my dick?”

“So I can judge for myself,” Moody replied evenly.

Yep, I was gobsmacked.

I glanced around the parking lot, looking for witnesses. Was he serious?

Did it matter? My cock was on board. It twitched against my zipper, hopeful for some unexpected action.

But I was the one doing the thinking here, not my dick.

“Moody, that’s—”

“I was joking,” he intercepted with the world’s phoniest laugh. “I’m practically incapable of issuing dastardly invitations. That was my inexpert way of voicing solidarity and quite frankly, amazement that…”

He circled his wrist as if searching his internal data bank for PC terminology.

I took pity on both of us and supplied, “That I got dumped?”

Moody nodded. “Yes.”

“So, let me get this straight…you were flirting with me earlier just for fun, and now you’d rather know why my ex left me.”

“Well…I’m still flirting, but with less voracity. I’ve turned down the heat, you might say.” He pushed at his glasses, chuckling at his joke, quickly adding, “Out of respect. It’s rather in poor taste to seduce a brokenhearted man. Or perhaps not, but it’s not something I’d be good at.”

“It happened a year ago, Moody. I’m fine.”

“Oh, good. That’s excellent.”

We stared at each other for a beat. “You’re still curious, huh?”

“Terribly,” he admitted.

I snorted. “It’s kind of chilly out here. My hotel is up the road. Did you want to come by for a—”

“Glass of water. Yes, please. I’ll follow you.”

And with that, he marched to his SUV.

Okay…I’d either invited a cute guy to my room for a glass of water to discuss a breakup or my dick size. Or both.

This was going to be interesting.