Change of Heart (Fostering Love 2)
“Because I have to help Trev up at his place in the morning and I don’t want him smelling you,” he replied simply.
“Pretty sure he wouldn’t know it was me.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
I nodded as he stuck his head under the water and then grabbed his shampoo and started lathering his hair and beard.
“Shit, I forgot to take the rubber band out and now my fingers are too fucking slick,” he sputtered through soapy lips. “Can you get it?”
He turned away from me, and I took a second to take in his long, lean back. It was muscular without being too much. Perfect really, and that wasn’t a term I’d ever thought I’d associate with Abraham Evans. I reached up and slid my fingers through the knotted hair at the back of his head, gripping the ponytail there and pulling the band out as gently as I could. His hair wasn’t super long or anything, but it was longer than mine. He wore it in a knot at the back of his head most of the time, and I’d barely ever seen it down. The guys we worked with gave him so much shit for it that I didn’t know why he kept it long, but he just took their jokes and laughed it off.
“Why do you keep it so long?” I asked as I set the rubber band on the ledge of the tub.
“Just do, I guess. Don’t have to get it cut as often.” He dipped his head under the spray and began rinsing.
“And people don’t confuse you with Alex anymore.”
“They didn’t really confuse us before,” he said with a shrug, grabbing some body wash as he pushed me back under the spray.
“No?”
“Nah, not really.”
“Do you miss him?” I asked as he poured the soap into my hands.
“Every day. He likes what he’s doing though.”
“You think he’ll ever come back home for good?”
“Not until after he retires,” Bram replied with a shake of his head.
“Shit, that’s like ten years away.”
“A little less than eight,” he argued.
“Counting the days, huh?”
“Hell yeah.”
We were quiet for a few minutes, each cleaning up and rinsing off until the water finally ran clear around us.
“Spend the night?” he finally asked, reaching out to slide his hands up my torso as he met my eyes.
“Don’t you have to help Trev?”
“I’ll drop you off at your car on my way,” he said easily, leaning in to run his tongue up my neck.
“What are we doing here?” I asked, tilting my head to give him better access.
Bram completely froze with his face still close to my neck. “What do you mean?” he asked.
“You and me. What is this?”
“What are you getting at?” Bram said darkly as he jerked his hands away from my hips.
“Oh, Jesus Christ,” I snapped, immediately irritated. I shoved hard at his belly. “Get off of me.”
“What the fuck is your deal?” he shouted as I scrambled out of the bathtub, grabbing a towel off the rack. I didn’t think it was clean, but at that point, I didn’t really care, either.
“Is this a onetime thing?” I asked, throwing open the bathroom door and shivering as I let the cold air in. “Back to normal tomorrow?”
“I fucking doubt it!”
“Well then, what the fuck are we doing?” I asked in irritation as he grabbed a towel under the sink and began rubbing it over his face and hair. “Is this a secret?”
“You really want everyone to know that we’re fucking?”
“Is that all this is?”
“What the hell do you want me to say?” he bellowed, pulling the towel from his face. “Just tell me. I’m not dealing with your high school drama bullshit. You have something to say—then just fucking say it!”
I took a deep breath and shook my head. “Fuck you. How about that? That work for you?”
“Christ, Anita.”
I turned and made my way into the bedroom, picking up my tank top and underwear on the floor by the bed and quickly pulling them on. I was still fucking freezing, and I wished I had worn more clothes. My jeans were all the way downstairs in the truck. Shit.
“Is there a reason you’re acting like a crazy bitch right now?”
“Nope, no reason.”
“Ani—” I lifted my hand to cut him off. I just wanted to go home and crawl into my own bed. I hated that we were fighting about our relationship status. What a joke. I wasn’t trying to tie him down. Hell, half the time I didn’t even like Bram. I was just curious what the parameters of this little attraction were. We’d just had sex without a condom. Did that mean we were exclusive? Were we going to be super careful to keep things quiet, or was it not a big deal that we were sort of seeing each other?
“I like hanging out with you, and I want to fuck you,” he finally said quietly as he pulled on a pair of boxer briefs. “Probably not what you want to hear, but that’s what I’ve got.”