Page 52 of Never Will I Ever

“I didn’t know if you were…decent.”

Kaleb arches a brow as he drops back down on his mattress. “You ripped open my shower curtain while I was bare-ass naked like a week ago. There’s little left to the imagination at this point.”

I cough, attempting to cover the sound of me nearly choking on my own spit from the surprise of him bringing up the night of the shower.

“Fair enough,” I manage.

Shit, how could I have forgotten that?

Just the memory of Kaleb’s angry glare and water cascading over his smooth, tanned skin has my cock stirring behind my sweats—which is the last thing I want it to do when I’m about to sit in a confined space with the object of my unfortunate desire.

Two forest-green eyes meet mine, and I swear he knows exactly where my thoughts are lingering. His penetrating stare always seems to see right through me.

“You planning to just stand awkwardly in the doorway the whole night, or are you gonna come in?”

Fuck. Right.

Crossing the room, I take a seat on the edge of his bed. Maybe not the best option, all things considered, but it seemed like a better option than the chair all the way in the other corner.

He’s already reaching over to the small cooler beside his bed, grabbing the six-pack I’d left him and setting it on the mattress between us. Pulling one from the sleeve, he cracks it open and hands it to me before snagging one for himself.

“Did you know this was my favorite, or was it just a lucky guess?” he asks, lifting the bottle in question.

It’s the same beer I’d seen him drink on occasion last season. A few times we’d gone out with some of our teammates to Stagger, for one, but at a few parties on campus too. I wasn’t exactly thinking about those moments when I selected it at the store, but something tells me it wasn’t a totally subconscious choice.

“Uh, I just grabbed the first thing I saw.”

There’s no telling if he buys the half-truth, but he doesn’t say anything. Just lets out a soft hum as he takes a drink, his throat working to swallow the liquid.

Averting my gaze, I take a swig of my own beer, then another.

I’ve never been one to down drinks quickly, but being in a confined space with Kaleb smelling like the forest after it rains has me in desperate need to take the edge off. Adding the fact that we’re both sitting on his bed, barely three feet apart, and I need all the help I can get to relax.

Fortunately, the tension lining my shoulders and neck leave right around the time I finish off my first beer.

Alcohol is a beautiful thing sometimes.

Kaleb also takes some of the pressure off by putting old episodes ofCriminal Mindson his laptop as background noise. A fact which is surprising, not because of the choice of show, but that he has the passwords for the Wi-Fi.

Would’ve been nice to know about for the past few weeks.

The two of us settle in with our backs against the cabin wall, the laptop on the edge of his desk and the six-pack positioned in the few feet of space between our legs. Silence blankets us while we watch, and despite it being a comfortable quietness, I can’t fully relax. My senses are heightened from his proximity; his addictive scent and the heat of his body setting me on edge.

So I drink, if only to dull the pull I feel toward him.

My second beer is nearly gone when Kaleb’s voice snags my attention from his laptop screen. “Slow your roll, dude, or you’re gonna be drunk in no time.”

It doesn’t come out judgmental, like I’ve come to expect. Instead, it’s more of a warning, which has me arching a brow at him.

“You can’t be serious.” When he hitches a brow up in return and shrugs, I scoff. “There’s no chance in hell we’re getting lit off three beers apiece, let alone off one or two.”

“There you go again, underestimating the power of elevation change.” A little smirk plays at his lips as he lifts his own beer to hide it. “Need I remind you of that God-awful sunburn you got that first week when you didn’t listen to me?”

I remember it all too well, but there’s not a chance I’ll be admitting it to him. If anything, the need to double-down in opposition flares inside me before I mutter, “And there you go, being a fucking know-it-all again.”

And with that, I finish off the beer in my hand before slipping the empty bottle back in the carton, only to grab another in replacement.

A low, smooth chuckle that slides over me like satin comes from Kaleb, and when I glance over again, he’s shaking his head.

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