Foreman followed Amber's gaze around the apartment, checking to make sure everything was in its place. The one room that tended to get untidy was his bedroom, strewn with workout clothes, papers, journals he'd been reading, CDs for the player on the table by the window. He'd cleaned recently enough that it shouldn't embarrass him, anyway.

Amber's bland compliment didn't fool him for a second. Coupled with her smirk, Foreman knew right away that he'd missed the mark. Compared to her place, he could see why. It was a space it was easy to feel at home in, warmer than his was, inviting. Foreman liked keeping his place neat, wanted a certain standard in the furniture and decorations he bought, but he knew he wasn't around to enjoy them much. But it was still important to him. Not so important that he didn't understand where Amber's laughter was coming from. Amber took hold of his coat and reeled him in, and Foreman stepped forward willingly, his hands finding her hips. He tipped his head to meet her eyes; his were half-closed, lazy with the pleasure of simply standing close to her. "You don't like it," he said, with a playful pout, pretending to be offended.

He inhaled quickly when Amber's next words reached his ears. She was so near, he was breathing in her perfume, the scent of her hair. Her skin was warm, and Foreman didn't quite kiss her; getting close and holding himself back was tantalizing. Her murmur was nearly too quiet to hear, but it reverberated through Foreman's body, the feelings it evoked more than the sound. He couldn't think, couldn't quite breathe. Answering seemed, for a long second, out of his reach. "I know," he finally whispered back, nuzzling nearer, still withholding a kiss for the time being. "Amber..." He slipped his hands up to the front of her coat, undoing it slowly, revealing her blouse inch by inch. He looked down, concentrating on the steady, deliberate motions of his fingers. "You don't have the same objection to me helping you get this off, do you?"