Page 84 of A Little Jaded
Okay, nothing is a bit of a stretch, since there is most definitely something in the front of his pants.
But why are you still looking?!
I gaze down at my feet, tuck the edge of the towel into itself by my breasts, and step closer to Everett. It’s quiet. I can hear his steady breaths. The soft brush of my bare feet against the tile. My unsteady heartbeat as I inch closer to him, daring him to open his eyes. To prove he’s like every other guy I’ve ever been around.
When I reach him, I glance at the door and look back at the man in front of me. My touch is gentle as I drag my fingers against his phone-wielding hand. If he’s surprised, he doesn’t show it.
“You can open,” I whisper.
Those baby blues hit like a wrecking ball as he lifts his lids and looks down at me. They slide down my body for the briefest of seconds then lock with mine.
“You good?” he rasps.
I nod, attempting to ignore the magnetic pull I feel whenever he’s around. Like a string, it weaves through me, binding me to him and making it impossible for either of us to walk away. To leave the room or acknowledge exactly how little space is left between my towel-covered body and his.
“Why didn’t you peek?” I whisper.
“What?”
“Why didn’t you peek?” I repeat. “Every other guy would’ve peeked.”
His Adam’s apple bobs. “Didn’t want you to feel like a piece of meat.” He grabs my wrist, placing his phone in my palm. “Dress in something warm. I don’t know how long the heat will be off, but I have the fire going. I’ll meet you in the family room.”
I nod and watch as he walks away, leaving me alone and even more confused than ever. Considering the whirlwind mess of my brain right now, that’s saying something.
I think I like him. Scratch that. I know I like him. I like him a lot, actually. And earlier tonight? When I heard him call someone babe, it felt like a knife to my chest, only for him to pull it out a few inches when we were dancing at SeaBird, and he called me Stormie.
It doesn’t really matter, though. I’m still lost. Still a project. Still an obligation.
My cheeks puff out as I force the oxygen from my lungs and make my way into my bedroom. Once I’m dressed in a hoodie and sweats, I head back to the family room. The fire is blazing, the orange and yellow flames licking at each other and highlighting Everett’s unreadable expression as he stares into it. He changed, too. Now, he’s sporting a pair of sweats and a dark T-shirt stretched across his chest.
What are you thinking, Everett Taylor?
Feeling like I’m intruding on something, I rock back on my heels and whisper, “Hey.”
He glances over his shoulder, and his eyes roll down my body like they did before. “Hey.”
Stepping closer, I hand him his phone and force a smile. “Thanks.”
“No problem.”
“The power’s still out,” I note.
“Yeah, it does this sometimes. I was thinking…”
“Yes?”
“You should sleep by the fire.”
I glance at the roaring blaze, then back at Ev. “And where will you sleep?”
“I’ll grab a couple extra blankets?—”
“Ev.” I reach for his hand. “I think the family room’s big enough for both of us, don’t you?”
A wrinkle forms in his brows as he studies me carefully. “You sure?”
“Pretty positive.” I smile, and this time, it’s more real—more genuine—as I fold my arms. “Although, I think we might still need those extra blankets. It’s freezing.”