A few minutes later, he’s out of the bathroom, holding the white hotel towel at one hip while he uses another to rub his hair dry. He gives me a funny smile that probably has something to do with me standing in exactly the same spot he left me in before he showered. “Huh.”
“Huh, what?” I take two steps back. One to the side.
And realize I’ve moved to a spot in the room so remote and useless, it probably hasn’t been occupied in all its years of existence.
“Just something Axe said.” Wade’s eyes flick over me, crinkling at the edges before he disappears into the front room. A minute later, I hear the pull-out groan under his weight. “Night, Good Girl. Sweet dreams.”
Chapter 15
Wade
All yesterday I waited for a sign that Harlow was seeing me differently. That with time to think, she might realize she wanted more. That this thing between us was too good to cap off at one night. That a connection like ours couldn’t be ignored.
Nothing.
By the end of the night, my ego was walking with a limp, complaining about the cold. My lifetime sentence to the Friend Zone about to be handed down, I was trying to be cool, because I didn’t want to be the dickhead making everything weird. I didn’t want to be the reason we couldn’t be friends… because if that was all I could have, I’d take it.
But then we got back here.
And she got weird.
It was nothing I could put a finger on exactly. More like a subtle tension that hadn’t been there before.
A possible weak spot to exploit.
Except I didn’t want to put a move on her only to have her freak out and push me away after. I didn’t want her to leave. I didn’t want to lose her.
And that’s when I remembered the dumbest, most asinine advice I’ve ever gotten.
Be the bunny.
Now it’s morning and I’m in bed, thumbs grudgingly moving over my phone.
Me: Asshole.
Axe: So it worked.
I want to be mad, but damn. The look on her face last night.
Me: I thought you were fucking with me.
Axe: Yeah, I was.
I blink. Blink again. Nope, that’s a twitch.
Axe: But the more I thought about it… laughing to myself for hours and hours and hours… I realized it might actually have some merit.
Me: Say goodbye to your teeth.
Axe: Nah, these chicklets are safe. You love me. And it worked.
Me: Yeah, it worked.
Axe: Not that well, if you’re texting me at five in the morning. Unless her head’s bobbing under the sheet. In which case, bad form, man.
Me: I’m alone. Don’t be a dick.
Me: I didn’t try it until late last night.
Axe: Ahh. Operator error.
I roll my eyes and send him a picture of my middle finger.
Axe: Are we done here… or were you seeking more of my wisdom?
I don’t want to do it. But damn it…
Me: Have you got any bunny tips?
Axe: Hold on, let me ask Dina.
What? Two seconds later, I know.
Axe: This is D
Axe: Tp1 wrk yr mouth
Axe: lots
Axe: mve it
Axe: tuch it
Axe: bite it
Axe: open cls it evn if u dnt tlk
There’s no way… except this is Axe and so yeah, it’s entirely possible the person texting me is some bunny named Dina… and that until seconds ago, she was bobbing under the sheet while he texted with me.
Christ.
Axe: Tp2….
Harlow
What is wrong with me?
One night. That’s all I wanted.
Some fun with a man as serious about keeping the complications out of his life as I am about keeping them out of mine.
It should have been perfect.
Six times should have been enough.
So why is it that every time I cross paths with Wade today, instead of seeing the man I respect and enjoy as much as any friend I’ve ever had… all I see is my own personal walking, talking Tumblr fantasy come to life?
It’s not him. I mean, of course it’s him. But he’s not doing anything different.
He’s still pulling the same boyfriend moves. Still attentive and friendly. Still making me laugh and smile.
But somehow, everything feels different.
From the second I peeked into the front room of the suite this morning and found him reading in bed, bare-chested, hair in such sexy disarray it was impossible to see it without imagining my fingers in it, my brain has been off.
Twitchy.
Twisting every innocent act into a moment rife with dirty potential.
It started with the bare chest and bed head, but then there was that whole business with his fork. The man was eating. But every time I caught a glimpse of his tongue touching the tines of his fork, dragging slow over the stainless… ugh!
His hands on the steering wheel. Yes, I know what he can do with those hands, but was the way he brushed his fingers across the leather always so pornographic?
And now, as we walk over to the pole tent set up in Janie’s parents’ front yard… He’s held my hand a hundred times since we arrived. So why am I just now noticing that slow, circling rub he does over my knuckle?
Why, when we’re surrounded by a few dozen people, am I noticing his breath against my skin when he leans in to drop a kiss at my temple? Did it always linger for that drawn-out beat? Long enough for my eyes to lift and meet his, for me to remember the rough, shuddering rush of it against my neck and ear?
And what about the heat of his body when he’s behind me, hands resting over my shoulders while we chat with Janie’s sister beside the pool? Did Wade standing so close always spark this low electrical charge between us, like a current that tingles and pulls and scrambles my mind so all I can think about is what it was like having him behind me Saturday night? The power of his arms holding me tight against him, the scrape of his teeth at that spot beneath where his thumb rubs small circles now… the steely thrust of his body working deep and deeper into mine until— “Wade.”
The hands at my shoulders still and the conversation I wasn’t following stops, confirming that sort of needy, breathless gasp wasn’t isolated to my head.
“You okay, Harlow?” Wade asks, shifting me to the side so he can see my face. And yeah, that knowing smirk has flames licking up my neck and into my cheeks.
I fake-cough a couple times for my fake boyfriend and step out of his hold. “Sorry.” Cough. “Think I need some water.” Cough, cough. “Something in my throat.”
His smirk ratchets up a notch. God, did his mouth always have that naughty slant?
I blink, shake my head, and escape to the thankfully empty kitchen for the water I don’t need.
But if I thought I was getting a reprieve, I was wrong. Because sure enough, a minute later, Wade follows me in. And there’s something about the way he closes the sliding glass door behind him—slowly, eyes locked with mine—that sets off another nervous flutter of wings.
He’s just closing the door. Right?
And that smile. Okay, the objective part of me knows Wade’s smile has been a class-five panty-melter from the start. But it didn’t melt my panties.
Not right away.
I swallow. It does now.
Because now I know exactly what’s backing it up.