“Long enough for me to carry you up here and get you out of your wet clothes.”
I don’t know what to say to that. He’s seen me half naked. Undressed me when I was unconscious and saved me from myself. Again. He must think I’m completely insane. I wish I could disappear. I’m so embarrassed by all this.
The deafening silence between us and his intense stares doesn’t improve things.
“Um… I… well,” I stammer, realizing I have no idea how to explain this to him in a way that’s even remotely comprehensible without him thinking I’m completely nuts.
Why should the woman I embody on the outside complain about her life? A woman like me isn’t supposed to have problems. I have nothing to complain about—at least in the eyes of society. And above all, I have no reason to do anything stupid.
“Well, you see…” I start a new attempt, but this one is just as unsuccessful as the last.
He shakes his head gently and looks at me with softer features.
“It’s all right. You don’t have to explain yourself to me. And if you like, I’d be happy to continue being your last-minute savior, Mrs. Shepherd,” he replies with a smirk and gives me an ambiguous wink at the end, which makes me smile involuntarily.
This guy. I don’t know what to make of him, and I don’t know his motives for paying so much attention to me. Is he flirting with me, or am I imagining it? And if I’m not imagining it, is he doing it out of politeness? Get it together for crying out loud!
“Cora,” I say to him, already anticipating that this will only cause further complications.
Because I think the man who has indirectly saved my life twice now should be allowed to call me by my first name.
A mischievous grin spreads across his lips, but he doesn’t comment and looks at me with his engaging gaze. This quickly makes me uncomfortable. After all, I’m still lying half-naked in my bed, alone in my bedroom with a strange and far too young guy.
Strangely, I don’t want to send him away. Too many questions buzz around in my head, and I don’t want to be alone right now. For some reason, I feel at ease and secure around him, even though I barely know him. With him, I can be my authentic self instead of pretending. It’s a feeling I haven’t had in years, as expectations always surround me wherever I go.
“I’d better go now. Take care of yourself, Cora,” Ezra says goodbye to me and pronounces my first name like it’s something special. Add to that his flirty wink, and I can’t help but smile at him, shaking my head.
I don’t want him to leave. But I know persuading him to stay is not a good idea. Ezra is a decent young man who probably has no romantic intentions toward me. So why the strange feeling, the need for reassurance? It’s almost like a stab in my chest when I think that he doesn’t find me as attractive as I see him. Cora, I scold myself for this immature thought, for God’s sake.
“Why Beauty?” It slips out unexpectedly and makes him pause again as he reaches my door.
Ezra slowly turns back to me and looks at me with furrowed eyebrows as if he can’t understand my question. I bite my lower lip nervously and turn my ring back and forth. It burns into my skin like a reminder, as if it senses my thoughts are not devoted to my husband.
I feel stupid and should have kept my mouth shut. I mentally slap my forehead and wish for this damn hole in the ground to finally open up for me.
“You truly don’t know why I gave you that nickname?” he asks with a tilt, and another subtle smirk graces his full lips.
My teeth capture my lower lip tighter before I gently shake my head.
“Then maybe you should look in the mirror more often, beautiful,” he replies playfully, gives me another wink, and then leaves my bedroom.
I sit in my bed with my mouth open and feel my heart pounding up to my throat. I stay that way for some time, my eyes still on my open bedroom door. Eventually, I press my forehead with a sigh to ground myself in reality and get out of bed.
I look down at myself. Fortunately, I like to look well-groomed, so my legs and anything that needs shaving are always neat and tidy, and I always wear nice underwear. Maybe a little too provocative today, considering that a stranger saw me in my white, slightly sheer lace underwear. But I couldn’t have guessed that when I woke up this morning.
I run my hand over my face and still can’t believe what this crazy morning has already brought. Lost in thought, I walk to the window and look out, trying to let everything sink in. Suddenly, I notice Ezra walking through his bedroom.
I should look away right now and forget everything that happened between us. Strictly speaking, nothing has happened, and that’s how it should stay. However, I can’t take my eyes off him. Especially when he removes his shirt, which is still damp, and then reaches for the zipper of his jeans. Turn around, Cora! The voice inside me lectures me, yet I step closer to my curtain, take the transparent fabric in my hand, and push it aside to see even better.
Is this wrong? Oh, it is, and yet I can’t look away.
My eyes are glued to Ezra’s well-toned back, which hypnotizes me and puts my mind on autopilot. I can’t do anything about it. The sight leaves me completely powerless. I watch, mesmerized, as he takes off his wet trousers and pulls his boxers over his impressive butt.
Again, I bite my lower lip while observing Ezra’s naked backside as he heads toward the adjacent bathroom.
But he stops unexpectedly, glances slightly over his shoulder, and looks in my direction.
Startled, I take two steps back but realize he’s caught my gaze. God, that’s embarrassing!