Page 68 of Until Then

He wags his tail like he understands.

Upstairs, the pipes groan from Derrick’s shower. Despite the updates he’s made, this is still an older home with plenty of quirks.

I swipe my jacket off the closet door and turn, but the sound of the groaning pipes stops me. Because from here, it doesn’t sound like old pipes.

No. It sounds likemoaning.

Holding my breath, I tiptoe out of my room, my curiosity piqued, and to his door, which is open just a crack. I should go, pretend I didn’t hear him, but fuck it if I can’t help myself.

That’s when I hear it.

This time when he moans, low and throaty, it’s my name. “Izzy.”

My breath catches. Those two syllables have never sounded so good.

Taking a step closer, I lean in so my ear is positioned in the gap between the door and its frame.

He’s touching himself while thinking of me.

My heart takes off, thundering in my ears.

All this time I’ve been trying to convince myself that my silly crush is one sided, that he doesn’t see me as anything other than a pseudo-roommate. Sure, I’ve caught him checking me out, but he’s a man, and I…

“Fuck, Izzy.”

Sweet Jesus.

The jacket slips from my grip and flutters to the ground.

I don’t know what comes over me, but suddenly feeling bold, I push the door open wider. The smart thing to do would be to go downstairs, walk out of this house, and pretend this never happened.

“That’s a good girl.”

That simple sentence heats my core, and my panties grow damp.

With my lip pulled between my teeth, I bring my hand to the waistband of my shorts. It would be so easy to touch myself, tease my clit, slip my fingers?—

“Fuuuck.”

My core clenches at the sound, and all timidity leaves me.

I push the door open wider, then head straight for the open bathroom door, like I’m drawn to him by an invisible force. I stop at the threshold, and in the reflection of the mirror, I see his silhouette, shadowed by the steam.

My heart races. This is a terrible idea. There’s a good chance he’ll reject me. Yell. Hell, kick me out of his house.

My thoughts are swirling when his hand comes up on the glass, startling me. I jump, squeaking, giving myself away before I’m ready.

My heart drops to the floor at the same time the water cuts off.

“I-Izzy?”

Forcing air into my lungs, I step into the room and face the shower, propping myself up against the counter behind me.

He swipes a towel from where it hangs over the glass shower door. The fog is thick around him as he wraps it around his waist, hiding the part of himself that I’m aching to lay my eyes on.

The shower door slides open, and there he is, water clinging to his solid chest, dripping down his sculpted muscles and disappearing beneath the cotton.

I’ve seen Derrick without a shirt at least a dozen times, but it’s different, knowing there’s nothing but bare skin beneath that towel.

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