Page 48 of The Cupcake Standard

I locked eyes with him as he waited for an explanation. So I let my hands slide lower, stopping right below his hip bones as I said, “Might be a bit drafty out there.”

His eyes darted down as he sucked in a breath, color rising in his cheeks. A sheepish smile spread across his face, and he stepped back.

“Although I appreciate the enthusiasm.” I couldn’t contain my grin.

“Can you wait while I rinse off quick? I’m gross.”

Not quite the word I’d use. My eyes ran over his body of their own accord. When I met his gaze, I found him smirking.

“You’re welcome to stay, of course. It’s not like you haven’t seen it all.”

I ducked my head at his teasing, at being caught so blatantly checking him out. I had to live with this guy after all. “Um, no, I’ll just, um, wait out here.” If the door would just open. I fumbled behind me for the handle.

Derek reached around me, close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating off him once more. His face was less than an inch away, those kissable lips right there. I swallowed hard, my gaze latching on to his mouth, my fingers itching to rake down his naked chest.

I heard the click of the lock as the door opened, cool air rushing in and waking me from my trance. I snapped my mouth shut, then fled. After I’d made my not so graceful exit, I found a bench to wait on.

Luckily, his shower didn’t take long. Derek emerged wearing athletic pants and a hoodie, his damp hair deliciously tousled. Despite the fact that he was all covered up, all I could see were flashes of skin. His sculpted shoulders and perfect pecs. That ridged abdomen clenching as he pushed back while rowing. Those muscular thighs. And everything in between. His deep chuckle startled me.

“What?” I fell into step beside him as we walked toward the elevator.

“You’re picturing me naked, aren’t you?”

I felt my eyes widen. “No, I’m not!”

He grinned, the megawatt smile blinding me. “Yeah. Yeah, you are.”

My cheeks were on fire as we walked in silence. If I protested any more, it’d be too much, and he wouldn’t believe me. Not that he believes me anyway. Ugh. I pushed the up arrow at the elevator.

Derek nudged me.

“What?” I glanced at him.

“I’m always naked under my clothes.” His eyebrows bobbed up and down above teasing blue eyes.

The elevator doors slid open, and he walked in, wearing a shit-eating grin. How am I ever supposed to look at him again? I managed to step into the elevator, glancing at the buttons, surprised to find them not lit.

“You do it.” He leaned against the back wall.

I frowned. “Now?” I wasn’t prepared. I didn’t know where we were going. When I glanced at my options, the six floors seemed like a million. Like they were in a completely different language. And I hated them. Hated Derek who worked with math every day, on purpose. Who chose numbers.

“Do you have your phone on you?”

I shook my head. Obviously, I should put the floor and the apartment number in my notes app. Take pictures of it all. But I was also stubborn enough to want to learn to do it on my own. I knew I could, if I did it myself enough times. I stared at the stupid buttons.

Suddenly his warm breath was on my neck, his voice rumbling in my ear, low and soothing. “Stop thinking about the number. Think about my motions. Which button do I always push? Is it on this side or that side?” He pointed as he spoke. “Close your eyes and picture it.”

I did as he suggested, leaning into the strong hand he rested on my shoulder. It’s definitely on the left side. Not the bottom row either. Maybe the middle. I opened my eyes to see what number that was. “Four?”

He nodded. “Do mnemonics work for you?”

I pushed the button, feeling a huge sense of satisfaction. “Sometimes.”

“Floor and four rhyme.” He stepped back and shrugged. “What floor? Four.”

Pathetic, but cute. I wrinkled my nose.

“I see. My rhymes you deplore.” He grinned proudly at his awful continuation.

---