“Oh.” I breathe the word.
He smiles a little; it’s nervous and maybe slightly chagrined. “Yes, oh. So, now that you know where I stand, tell me, what do you want?”
We stare at each other for a few heavy heartbeats, and his thumb strokes along the edge of my jaw. “I want you to touch me and make me feel good. Give me the release I need.”
“Because you think I can help?” There’s a waver in his voice, a hint of vulnerability.
“Because you’re my best friend and I trust you. And because I want it to be you.” I pause and bite my lip. “And because I’m attracted to you, and I don’t know how many more showers I can handle without losing my mind.”
He laughs a little. “I feel exactly the same way, about all of those things.”
“Can I have five minutes in the shower alone to get ready?” I’m already zinging below the waist.
“You can have whatever you need.” He kisses my temple. “You tell me when you’re ready for me and I’ll be waiting.”
14
I’LL MAKE IT BETTER FOR YOU
DECLAN
I glance at the clock again. Avery has been in there for seven minutes now. I rushed to my room, had the world’s fastest shower to rinse off the workout sweat, and put on a pair of swim shorts. Now I’m sitting on the edge of her bed, waiting for her to call me into the bathroom.
This isn’t a good idea. I know it’s not.
But I can’t deny this attraction anymore.
More than that, I don’t want to.
All the feelings and thoughts I’ve kept a lid on since I first met her are suddenly popping out like those stupid Whac-A-Mole things that are nearly impossible to bop on the head before they go back into hiding.
Except this time, all my feelings are right in front of me. Clear and painfully obvious. I don’t know when things shifted, but they have. And now I’m sitting here, waiting for her to call me into the bathroom so our relationship can be irreparably changed.
If I hadn’t interrupted her, I wouldn’t be sitting outside her bathroom, listening to the shower, waiting for her to call me in. I can’t decide if that is a good thing or a very bad thing.
“You can come in now!” she shouts.
I’m not sure if I imagine the uncertainty in her voice, or if it’s in my head.
I brace my hands on my knees and push up off the edge of her bed. My excitement and anxiety spike as I cross the room. There’s no going back now. For better or worse, this is going to happen.
I push open the door, expecting her to be dressed the same way she always is for shower time: in a pair of side-tie bikini bottoms and one of those tube bra things.
Except that’s not at all how she’s dressed.
Avery is naked. Totally, gloriously naked. And wet.
Wet and naked.
I’ve been in the shower with Avery countless times since she’s come home from the hospital. I’ve seen her in bathing suits plenty of times. But this is very, very different. She’s bare and vulnerable.
Her gaze darts from my face to her lap, where she’s holding the showerhead, aiming it at the bottom of the tub.
“You’re fucking gorgeous, Avery.” My voice is gritty.
She peeks up at me, uncertainty and desire mixing with her nerves. So of course she makes a joke. “I think the casts really add to my allure.”
“They make you badass and a warrior.” I cross the room and climb over the edge of the tub and wrap my arms around her from behind. Bending, I kiss her temple. “You’re in charge, Avery. Whatever you need, I’ll give it to you.”
“Okay.” She exhales a tremulous breath and tips her chin down, focusing on her feet. I note the almost imperceptible shake in her hand, her peaked nipples, and the way the toes on her unbroken leg curl when my lips brush her cheek.
I give in to the urge to touch her in the ways I’ve tried not to think about over the past few years. I drag my fingers along her shoulder, up the side of her neck, watching her skin pebble under my touch. I continue along her throat, cupping under her chin so I can tip it up.
I move closer so her crown rests against my diaphragm. Her lids lift and she meets my gaze.
I stroke along the edge of her jaw. “Can I start by washing your hair?” It seems like a better choice than just jumping right into things. Besides, I have a feeling the hair washing gets Avery a little ramped up, and I want her to be that way because she’s turned on, not because she’s anxious and worried or embarrassed.
She nods once, and I release her chin, rinse her hair, and lather it up with shampoo. I have to force myself to slow down and take my time. I run my thumbs down the back of her neck and skim the sensitive spot behind her ear. She melts into my touch, head tipping back, eyes falling closed. Her good hand flutters in the air and lands at the base of her throat, then slides down, fingertips dragging gently over a peaked nipple before it skims across her stomach and settles on her upper thigh.