A sly smile curls his lips while his eyes remain hesitant. Subtle plops of water puddle on the floor, and I notice his expensive shoes have been replaced by flip-flops. The bottom of his jeans are soaked like the rest of him.
“Maybe you should take your clothes off,” I say without thinking, and his eyes widen.
“If that’s what you want,” he teases, tugging at his shirt.
“I mean . . . let me get you a towel . . .” Flustered by the sudden seductive gleam to his eyes and the dimple on one side of his mouth, I turn for the bathroom. The small room joins my bedroom with Gee’s in a Jack and Jill manner. After double checking Gee is playing video games, I close the door tight on his side and then grab two towels for Gavin. Thankfully, Gee has headphones on and didn’t hear my scream. On the other hand, thank goodness this wasn’t an emergency as those headphones could block out anything.
Returning to my room, I close the door on my side of the bathroom and turn to find Gavin with his shirt off and barefoot on the floor. I lick my lips, jealous of the water coating his firm pecs and the smattering of hair on his chest.
“Trade.” I choke on the word as I hand Gavin a towel, and he hands me his shirt. “I can put this in the dryer for you.”
Gavin takes his time to rub the towel over his chest, lowering the material for his waist, where a strip of dark hair dips low, and my mouth waters. My eyes lower for his zipper, pausing a beat, and then look away.
What is this reaction?
In my thin sleep tee and shorts, my nipples peak. My breasts ache. A pulse drums between my thighs. I haven’t been turned on like this in years.
“Need a second?” Gavin irritatingly teases, catching me admiring the show of him wiping off his body.
“I can give you a second to remove your pants.” I swallow around the strain in the equally playful words. I’m not trying to be seductive, but my voice gives away the thrill of admiring his body.
Gavin pops the button on his jeans, teasing me with even more of a show, and I turn around. He chuckles behind me. “It’s not like you haven’t seen all of me before,” he reminds me, and my mouth falls open, thankful he can’t see my reaction. My mind fills with memories of him over me or me sitting astride him. However, this older body of Gavin is nothing like his younger form. He’s more filled out and more solid in ways he wasn’t as a teen.
“Okay.” He chuckles at my back, and when I turn around again, my knees nearly buckle. Gavin stands with the towel around his waist, hanging low on his hips and exposing more of that dark hair trailing below his belly button. He swipes the other towel over his head and then drops it on the floor, using his foot to wipe up the water. “Sorry about that.”
He means the mess, but I’m the one who’s a mess right now. My heart hammers. My fingers tremble. I want to run my hands over the firmness of his chest and stroke through the fine hairs below his abs. I want to lick his neck and taste his lips. I want to . . .
“I’ll be right back,” I choke again. Snagging his jeans from his hand, I give him my back and stalk out of the room for the laundry closet. The cottage is small, and I accepted living with less when we moved here. Patrick and I had a nice house in a suburb of Grand Rapids, but it was too much for me once he was gone. This space suited Gee and me just fine, plus I wanted to be closer to Leo.
Of course, when I return to my room, it feels like Gavin takes up all the oxygen. His larger than life good looks appear even larger as he sits on the floor with his back to the side of my bed.
“What are you doing down there?” I laugh at his position, as it reminds me of the numerous times we collapsed on the floor to listen to music or play board games.
“I didn’t want to get your bed wet.”
Shiitake. I’m already wet, and that bed is going to feel it later because there’s no way I’ll sleep tonight without a little self-soothing.
I fold down next to him and then adjust to sit against the bed as well. As I crisscross my legs, my knee brushes his terrycloth-covered thigh, and I flinch, shifting to stretch my legs forward and match his position.
“So?” I question, still wondering what he’s doing here.
“So.” Gavin rubs his hands over the towel wrapped around him. His legs are stretched before him, and he crosses his ankles. I’m not certain he could look sexier, which is ridiculous. It’s only a towel. He’s sitting on the floor. Of my bedroom. And we are no longer teens.
“First, I want to apologize for last night. I shouldn’t have kissed you like that.” He looks over at me, and I nod to agree, but then I look away. Did he not like kissing me? He’s saying he’s sorry, but is it because he’s sorry it happened, sorry I sucked, or just sorry-sorry? I didn’t mind. I just overreacted. I haven’t been kissed since Patrick, and in that last year of his life, it was more pecks of comfort than passion.
“I was just startled,” I say by way of explanation for any of the three reasons he might be apologizing. “It’s been a long time.”
“Between us,” Gavin clarifies.
“Since I’ve been kissed.” Gavin shifts to look at me, but I don’t look up from my lap.
“It’s been a while for me, too.” My head snaps up, and I narrow my eyes at him. Now, he’s just mocking me.
“Her name was Zoey, and we lived together for years.” Nervously, he swipes a hand over his wet hair before softly chuckling. “When we met, she was a force. She had all these plans and connections. She sought me out.”
His eyes briefly shift to me. “And I just sort of fell for the attention. She pursued sponsorships and endorsement opportunities. She wasn’t my agent, but quickly became mine, and more. When I broke my wrist and lost some commercial gigs, she stepped back, wanting out of the relationship.”
Gavin rubs a hand down his face before continuing.
“She’s still on retainer with me, although I don’t know why I’ve kept her around. She approved of the documentary at first, fighting for more rights as I became more prominent in it, but when everything fell apart and I started working on the project more out of passion than a paycheck, she didn’t like the idea.”
He grows impassioned as he speaks.
“Zoey humored me, calling my interest a nice hobby, but she missed me being in the game. The notoriety of dating Gavin Scott,” he says bitterly. “She eventually traded down for a younger model.”
She had to be out of her mind. Gavin is unbelievably hot, and I imagine he still performs well in all departments. Not to mention, he’d always been a good man, and I am hopeful that hasn’t changed in him. He sounds truly crushed that she didn’t support his new endeavor like she’d supported his high-profile sports career.
“Zoey should have been proud of you no matter who you are,” I offer, realizing I’m not making him feel better.
“She should have been, but she wasn’t.” He sighs, glancing down at the towel over his thighs and plucking at the material. Then he tips his head back, looking upward for a brief second before rolling his head to gaze at me. “I just didn’t love her. We lived together. . . but I moved out. It was her place anyway. Everything was hers, and she’d always remind me of that. She’s rich daddy’s spoiled little girl, and I just didn’t see a future with someone like that. I was just stuck for a bit.”