Love Story (Love Unexpectedly 3)

“I’m not going to sleep with you.”

Reece doesn’t even blink, his gaze locked on the elevator numbers as we ascend. “Don’t recall asking.”

“But that dance…”

He glances over. “Was a dance. You danced with the other guy too.”

“Which you didn’t like,” I say, hands on my hips. Admit it. You were jealous.

Reece’s eyes flick over me, goosebumps left in the wake of his gaze, but he doesn’t deny or confirm, and I’m oddly disappointed.

True to his word though, once we step into the dimly lit hotel room, seduction seems to be the last thing on his mind. He snaps on the light. No, he snaps on all the lights, before hauling his duffel bag onto the couch and rummaging through it, coming up with a bedraggled-looking Ziploc bag with his toiletries.

He lifts his eyebrows when he finds me watching him. “You want to use the bathroom first?”

“No.” My voice is scratchy, and I try again. “No, go ahead.”

Reece shrugs and goes into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him, while I lower myself to the side of the bed and try really hard not to think about how good it felt to have his hot, firm body pressed against me. I try not to think about how when his fingers brushed my thighs I’d wanted to turn to him, beg him to keep going, to drag his fingers up and up, to touch me everywhere.

I groan, putting both hands over my face and flopping back on the bed, legs dangling over the side.

“Well. This is a sight.”

I sit bolt upright again when I realize Reece has come out of the bathroom and isn’t even trying to hide the fact that he’s noticed my skirt has hiked up.

I hurriedly pull it down, and he smirks. Smirks.

I give him my best glare before scooting off the bed. “Done in the bathroom?”

“Yup.”

Once again, not looking at me. Fine.

I brush by him, ignoring that he smells like mint and soap and man.

He cheated on you. Never forget that.

I hesitate only briefly before taking off my makeup, stuck between this weird place of thinking, It’s just Reece and Ohmigod, it’s Reece.

Sort of like that feeling of wanting to look your best for a guy, and yet somehow knowing that you don’t have to, because he’ll like you anyway.

I put toothpaste on my brush and point it at my reflection in warning. “Don’t. He doesn’t like you. Remember. And you don’t like him.”

“What’s happening in there, Hawkins?” he calls.

“Nothing.” I shove the toothbrush into my mouth, working up a furious foam.

By the time I come out of the bathroom, the rum-haze is fading, my blood is cooling, my brain gaining the upper hand over my hormones.

And then it all goes to hell. He’s standing there in nothing but blue plaid boxers, and he’s an absolutely perfect specimen of a man.

He was always fit courtesy of high school sports and long hours in the vineyards, but this is different. Once again I realize that the boy I knew has been replaced by a man. And he is all man.

“Damn it, Reece, put a shirt on.”

He gives me a bemused look before crossing the room to the closet to grab the spare blanket from the top shelf. “You’ve seen it all before.”

“Yeah but that was…”