He’d gone from one extreme . . . experiencing that gut punch of grief when he thought about his sister and what she’d gone through, to being intimate with a sweet, guileless woman who made him feel things he had no business allowing to infiltrate his heart. Not even a little bit.
He couldn’t say that he’d been surprised when she’d asked about Trisha . . . but he’d been floored that she’d actually cried over his sister. A girl she’d never known. All because he’d been hurting, and she’d felt his pain. Jesus, even his own mother hadn’t shown him that kind of emotion, or acknowledged his grief.
He hadn’t wanted to tell Evie about Trisha and his family, but now that he had, he couldn’t say he regretted sharing his past. As he scrubbed the shampoo through his hair, he admitted that he felt a little lighter inside, like a small burden had been lifted . . . though their conversation didn’t change how he viewed relationships and forever commitments. He’d meant what he’d said to Evie about keeping his relationships casual, and his reasons for doing so. He was too much of a risk factor, and he refused to put any woman through the same agony and heartbreak he’d lived through with Trisha.
He finished rinsing the soap from his body, turned off the water, and stepped out of the shower. Grabbing a towel, he rubbed it through his wet hair, dried off the best he could . . . and realized that he’d left the sleep shorts he’d intended to wear to bed tonight in his bag in the other room. No big deal. He’d just wrap the towel around his waist and go grab them really quick.
As soon as he stepped out of the bathroom, he came to an abrupt halt, his breath lodging in his throat at the sight of Evie sitting on the edge of the bed a few feet away from him, wearing a tempting dark pink nightie that was hot as fuck. Thin, miniscule straps held up the sexy little number, while pink, see-through lace molded to her lush breasts and sheer material floated down to her thighs.
His cock stirred and stiffened against the scratchy terry material around his waist as he lifted his gaze back to hers. “I . . . uh . . . Is that what you always sleep in?”
She laughed softly, sensually. “No. I bought it a few days ago . . . just in case.”
Her insinuation was clear. She wanted to have sex with him. After what they’d just done down by the lake, he should have been all over her and the invitation she was issuing, but this was Evie, not some random fuck buddy of his. She knew he didn’t do long-term relationships; he’d made that clear earlier. He had strict rules, yet he’d bet all his money in the bank that she was the kind of woman who probably didn’t have much experience in random flings, and yet that’s all this could be.
She was the last person he’d ever want to hurt, because he legitimately cared about her. More than he’d ever thought possible. How the fuck had that even happened?
“Evie . . . I’m not sure this is such a good idea.”
She stood up and closed the distance between them, and his traitorous gaze dipped down to the nipples poking through the pink lace, taunting him with what he couldn’t have. When she stopped about a foot away from him, he dragged his gaze back up to her beautiful face, framed by all that gorgeous, thick brown hair his hands were itching to feel wrapped tight around his fingers again.
“Here’s the deal,” she said, and he didn’t miss the slight vulnerable note to her voice. “I’m not asking you for more than you’re willing to give. And right now, if it’s just sex, then I want it with you. You can’t touch me like you did down by the lake and not expect me to want more.” She swallowed hard. “Unless . . . you’re not interested?”
Shock jolted through him. Jesus, how could she think that after what had happened between them? That he’d pleasured her out of, what, obligation on his part as her pretend boyfriend? Fuck no. He was trying to do the right thing, but his resolve was quickly dwindling. God, he was such a dick for wanting her so much . . . and an even bigger asshole for being greedy and taking what she was offering when he knew he could only give her this weekend.
Taking her hand, he flattened her palm on his bare, damp chest, nearly groaning at the soft, cool contact of her skin on his hot flesh. Desire flared in her eyes as he gradually guided her hand down his body, letting her feel the way his abs tightened at her touch and how his breathing deepened the closer she drifted to his stiff, straining erection.