“Pretty sure the offer expired,” I tease.
“Then, I guess I really will need another rematch.” His brow arches with a silent challenge.
“Maybe some other time.”
“All right,” he returns, clearly unperturbed by my dismissal. “See you around, Blake.” He walks out of the PT room with a slight limp, and I watch him leave.
He’s cute.
Safe.
I should want safe.
“It’s normal,” Russ says.
Tearing my attention from Burrows’ backside, I clear my throat and turn back to Russ. Shit. I’d almost forgotten he was here.
“What’s normal?” I ask.
“The slight limp.”
“Oh.” I nod and cross my arms. “Gotcha.”
“You did good today,” he notes, standing up and heading toward the door.
“Thanks.”
“After you put away the foam rollers and bands, wipe down the table with some cleaning wipes. Then, you can go.”
“Okay.”
“And don’t forget to turn off the lights,” he adds.
With a salute and a cheeky grin, I reply, “Yes, sir.”
He watches for a few seconds as I gather up everything into my arms before he strides out of the room. Once everything is organized in the large metal cabinet at the back of the room, and the massage table is sanitized, I dig out my cell from my back pocket to check the time and find a message from an unknown number.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: So, when I leave this glowing review, do I mention the part where I couldn’t take my eyes off you, or should I focus on the way your hands felt against my leg?
A breath of laughter slips out of me. The guy’s a flirt. I’ll give him that much. Innocent flirting, I can handle. It’s the broody stares and snarky comments made by a certain someone that have a habit of getting under my skin.
The thought annoys me, so I shove it aside and begin typing my response as I head toward the exit when I smack against a hard, wet chest.
What the––?
My phone clatters to the floor as a pair of strong hands reach out and steady me. The grip is soft but firm against my elbows as I peek up at who they belong to.
It’s Theo.
A jolt of electricity inches up my limbs, making my heart beat faster and faster as I attempt to process what the hell just happened.
“I––” My fingers flex against his damp and very naked chest before I realize my hands are against Theo’s damp and very naked freaking chest.
I pull them away as if I’ve been shocked.
This is so embarrassing.
Avoiding his gaze, I look at the ground, and my jaw drops.
His towel is on the floor, and his penis is––
Holy. Freaking. Shit.
My head snaps toward the ceiling, my face the shade of cherry flavored Kool-Aid as the image of Theodore Taylor’s massive dick is imprinted into my memory for the rest of eternity.
“Oh my hell,” I mumble under my breath. Embarrassment and want and surprise and every other freaking emotion filter through my system like I’ve been given a dose of crack and it doesn’t know how to metabolize the stuff.
Is this seriously happening right now?
“Shit,” he growls.
As the curse slips past his lips, I can’t help but look at it again. His penis. It’s like it’s a damn lighthouse, guiding me to it. Demanding my attention. And boy, does it deserve attention. Theo’s hands drop from my arms, and he bends down, tearing the towel from the ground and wrapping it around his waist. But it’s too late. The damage is done. I’ve already seen plenty.
And I mean plenty.
Dazed, my gaze stays glued to his crotch when he finally looks up at me, his jaw tight. Like I’m the one in trouble, and he has every right to be pissed at me.
“I didn’t…” My voice trails off, the lie tasting bitter on my tongue.
I didn’t…what? See anything? Oh, boy is that a load of shit.
I didn’t…stare? I guess it’s partially true, but only because I was too shocked to make a closer inspection.
I didn’t…mean to? To what, exactly? I did nothing. I was just walking and––
“Why the hell weren’t you paying attention?” Theo growls.
“Excuse me?” I lift my chin and stare him straight in the eye. “Paying attention to what? Your dick?”
“I meant where you were going,” he barks.
The bossy tone sends my frustration into overdrive as I glare up at him, refusing to back down. “At least I had my phone as a distraction, Teddy,” I spit. “What’s your excuse? Did the steam get to your head and make you woozy? Or maybe your stinky aftershave was the culprit. Is that it?”
His aftershave isn’t stinky. It smells like heaven, but I refuse to let him know that. Not when he’s looking at me like I’m the problem in this scenario when it’s clear I’m just as innocent as he is. Although, I also refuse to let him know I’m not blaming him after he’s thrown down the gauntlet.
Still. It was a mistake. A mistake that led me to seeing my brother’s best friend naked while also getting a chance to touch his naked chest.
No big deal.
Nope.
Not one bit.
I swear I can almost see the wheels turning in his big, stupid head as the water clings to his curly hair. The moisture lingers on it for a split second before a droplet falls onto his skin and rolls down the side of his face, leaving a trail of liquid my fingers itch to wipe away.
I fist my hand at my side.
“You think I smell stinky?” he asks, his voice laced with sarcasm and condescension. Neither of which do anything but pour gasoline on my annoyance.
Ignoring him, I continue, “Or maybe you’re self conscious. Is that it? Does Baby Taylor have a”––I lift my forefinger into the air, then crook it toward the floor––“wittle problem?”
He chuckles and steps closer, making me feel like a little mouse thanks to the height difference. “I almost forgot.”
I drop my hand to my side but crane my neck up, forcing myself to hold his gaze. “Forgot what?”
“I almost forgot my dick is the first one you’ve ever seen up close.” His laugh turns darker. Richer. Sharper. Making my belly tighten. “I almost feel sorry for you now.”
“Because it’s so pathetic?” I offer.
“Nah, because whatever guy takes your cherry is only gonna be a disappointment if you think any of them will live up to the beast between my legs.”
I snort. “For your information, your dick isn’t the first I’ve seen up close.”
His eyes darken, and his nostrils flare, all amusement dissipating from his stupidly handsome features. The heat from his bare chest seeps through the thin cotton of my T-shirt. When the hell did he get this close?
And is it hot in here?
“Oh?” he challenges.
“Yup.”
“And how many have you seen?”
“Three?” I pause, tapping my finger against my chin. “No, wait. Four. Definitely four.”
“Four? In two months?” His brow arches, and he steps even closer, all broody and broad shouldered. “Someone’s been busy.”
I laugh but stand my ground, refusing to back away or let him intimidate me with his massive size. “Says the biggest whore I know.”