“Wait,” I call out, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around me.
“Yes?” he asks.
“Thanks again for letting us stay here,” I say. “And these photos are really amazing. Do you still take them? I’m just curious.”
With his hand still acting as a visor, he starts to talk. “Well, uh—”
“You can take your hand down. It’s okay. We’re roommates. It’ll probably happen sooner or later. I’m comfortable with my body.”
“Okay,” he says, though hesitant. He lets his hand down from his eyes. “Yeah, I do still take photos, actually.”
“What kind do you like better, landscapes or people?”
“People, definitely.”
I take a step toward him. “Can I ask you something else? If you don’t want to answer, it’s okay.”
He nods, his eyes unusually intense. “Go ahead.”
“You said Zach saved your life. What did you mean by that?”
He looks toward the bathroom, where Zach is still in the shower. “It’s embarrassing.”
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
His eyes darken, and he closes them for a moment. I’m not sure why, but my stomach tightens as I anticipate his response.
“When Zach moved in as my cellmate, I was in a bad way. So bad that I wasn’t planning on going on much longer.”
I feel my heart split in half. I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.
“Sometimes, you go to dark places when you’re all alone. And my cellmate before Zach was a lunatic. I was a day or two away from . . . you know . . . when he got there. Zach brought this down-to-Earth feeling to my life when I was on the brink.”
My breaths get heavy. “So how’d he do it?” I mutter, my voice almost a whisper. “How’d he save you? Was there something specific?”
Andrew shrugs. “No specific way, really. Just smiled. Cracked a joke. And told me I was lucky to have the greatest cellmate of all time. Asked me some questions about my life and made me realize that I did have something to look forward to once I got out—my restaurant gig. That’s when I started photographing, too. He was my first photo.”
My heart swells, and I glance toward the shower, running my tongue over my lips.
“Well, the photos are good. Really good.”
“Thanks.”
There’s an awkward pause, and I decide to fill it, well, awkwardly. “Don’t worry,” I blurt out. “We won’t be too loud.”
As soon as I say it, I realize it has a sexual connotation, even though I didn’t mean it that way at all.
“I mean—I won’t play guitar too loud. At night,” I say.
Andrew laughs. “You can play all you want. I’m a sound sleeper.”
“Okay. And . . . you can be as loud as you want too.”
Another awkward pause. Don’t fill it, don’t fill it . . .
“Like if you have girls over. That’s fine,” I add.
I’m expecting at least an awkward laugh, but instead his face tenses, and he looks distinctly uncomfortable. “I don’t have girls over,” he says matter-of-factly.
“Oh. Well, guys are cool too.”
He shakes his head. “Not my thing.”
I touch my hand to his elbow. “Well, good talk.”
He flashes the same half smile he’d given us before. “Good talk. Good night,” he says, and then glances at the desk. “Towels. I won’t barge in on you again. Promise. I’m just not used to having guests aside from people doing AirBnb.”
“Just knock next time,” I say sweetly.
Andrew leaves, and I take the towels into the bathroom.
I unwrap the towel from my body and slip off my bra and panties.
“Hey, honey.” I grin, opening up the shower curtain. Zach tongues his cheek, and I take a moment to savor his naked glory. The man is seriously an Adonis. “Mind if I join you?”
A grin spreads slowly across his face. “I suppose there’s a little space to fit you in. It’s a little slippery, though.”
“You don’t say.”
Chapter 19
Zach
If you’d told me a month ago that I’d be face to face with the most beautiful voice in Blackwell, I would have told you you’re crazy.
I was in a hell of a rut that Thursday night when we first met. She gave me an hour of her voice, and I could have died a happy man if someone had killed me right then.
As I glare at Harmony’s cute little face poking around the shower curtain, though, warmth surges through my body from the inside out.
“I’ll take your staring as a yes.” She smiles and steps into the shower. “It’s green if we shower at the same time, you know. Saves water.”
I bite my lip. “So glad to know we can save the environment together, Vanderbilt.”
She rolls her eyes. “Is that really my nickname now? I didn’t even graduate from there.”
“But you could have. Because you’re a fucking genius.”
“I’m not,” she says, pushing her hair behind her ear.
Our eyes catch, and I can’t stop staring at her.
I swallow hard as the warm water rolls over my skin, and I feel the blood pumping all through my body. “Jesus,” she breathes. “You look like a shampoo commercial model right now.”
“And you look dry. Let’s switch places.”
We hold each other’s gaze as she moves into the water, and I take the spot away from the shower stream.
Closing her eyes, she lets the water wet her hair, and I can’t help but run my eyes over her alabaster skin, her curves arousing me.
“In that photo Andrew took of you,” she says. “You looked so different. Almost innocent.”
“And I’m not innocent anymore?” I grin.
She grins slyly. “Were you ever?”
I shrug. “There were a few years in middle school when I was a good kid.”
She laughs, and even her chuckle is melodic.
From behind, I put my hands on her hips. “Let me help you with that. I’m kind of an expert with this loofah.”
Biting her lip, she half turns her head toward me. “Oh? Since you showered for ten minutes before me, you’re an expert now?”
“Exactly,” I say, and rub soap into the loofah until it foams. “See? That’s professional foam right there.”
Reaching a hand behind her, she grazes my thigh. “Yes,” she moans. “Very professional.”
Almost tentatively, I rub the loofah down her chest and stomach. The warm water streams onto us. She backs up into me, and her ass presses against my cock.
An unexpected grunt escapes me, and blood rushes to my cock at the feel of her soft, tender flesh. I swallow hard and kiss her shoulder.
“Oh God, Zach. Yes. Yes,” she whispers.
Arching her back, she grinds her ass against my cock again and again, driving me absolutely insane with desire.
“What are you trying to do to me?” I grunt.
Turning around, she runs a hand from my chest down my abdomen.
“Is it okay that I’m touching you, Zach?” she whispers through the noise of the shower. “Because I really want to touch you again. I know you weren’t okay with it—”