Page 63 of On The Rocks

My cock hardened to a block of concrete.

“I’m sorry,” she cried out. “I thought I locked the door.”

“It’s okay,” I assured her. “Nothin’ I haven’t seen a hundred times before.”

There was a brief pause, then Maeve murmured, “Oh.”

Immediately, I could’ve kicked myself. I wasn’t exactly handling this well. It must’ve been the shock of seeing her that way. She always hid herself away under baggy jeans and sweaters. Even when I’d seen her gussied up, her clothes hadn’t fit her well and usually drew the eye to imperfections that I now realized didn’t even exist.

How the fuck did she do that?

Her body was fucking banging.

“It’s okay,” she announced. “I’m decent now.”

Dropping my hand from my eyes, I blinked at the bright lights of the bathroom, closely studying Maeve while she knotted the belt of her old, ratty robe with flaming red cheeks.

It was like I was seeing her for the first time.

The skin I thought too pale before now reminded me of a doll’s, only made more interesting by the light brown freckles I’d caught myself fantasizing about by kissing every last one. Maeve wasn’t wearing her glasses, but whenever she did, I found them incredibly fucking cute, especially when she’d peer up at me through them, her cosmic-blue eyes softening at something I’d said.

Her hair had always seemed out of control with her crazy curls that now looked glossy and defined in the light of the room... wait—that wasn’t right.

“Did you do something to your hair?” I demanded.

“Oh, yeah.” A hand darted up to nervously touch a curl, and she smiled wryly. “Tristan put a keratin treatment on it earlier. He said it would make it easier to manage.”

“It looks fantastic,” I murmured, reaching out to touch its softness. “I loved your hair before, but it looks shinier now, like burning copper.”

Her cheeks turned pink, and her eyes locked with mine while she whispered, “Thanks.”

“I’m sorry I walked in on you like that,” I muttered, mesmerized as I watched my thumb sweep gently across her cheek. “Usually, I hear you.”

Red stained her face, and her eyes lowered. “I’m the one who’s sorry. You must’ve got a shock walking in and seeing me like that. What a sight. Your poor eyes?—”

“Don’t do that,” I ordered gently. “Stop putting yourself down.”

“But I’m fat,” she protested.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” I bit out, my tone more forceful than I meant it to be. It just annoyed me when Mae talked shit about herself. She was nowhere near fat, and even if she was, so what? Big was beautiful, too. “Why do you always say you’re fat?”

Her eyes lowered. “Compared to Shannon and Erin?—”

I barked a laugh, cutting her off. “Babe, that doesn’t make you big; it makes them emaciated. You’ve got a normal woman’s body with curves, exactly the way it should be. Don’t tell me you wanna be thin like those models in the magazines. That kinda beauty’s unattainable, and it’s not even real. They’re airbrushed to fuck, and their pictures are manipulated to look that way. It’s okay for the beauty industry, I get they’ve gotta sell their shit, but real women don’t look like that. They look like you, thank God.”

“But I’ve got rolls when I sit down,” she argued.

“So do I,” I bandied back. “And I bet Aislynn, Kennedy, Sophie, Layla, and Cara do too. Fat my arse,” I grumbled, my eyes drifting over her hair again. “I really like what Tristan did, and I get you wanna look nice, but don’t change yourself too much. You’re perfect as you are.”

Her sharp intake of breath was audible, and I watched her face soften as she gazed up at me adoringly with the same eyes that had been haunting my dreams for the past week. “Really?”

“Yeah, really.” I bent my neck and moved my mouth to the shell of her ear, making sure she felt my breath there. “I’ll take a shower, then order us pizza for dinner.”

Her shiver ran from the top of her head to the bottom of her toes, and then she sighed the word, “Okay.”

“You alright?” I asked her softly.

She swayed forward slightly. “Yeah.”

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