Page 81 of The Strike Zone

He was going to sleep until lunchtime. It was quite likely I wouldn’t see him again until tonight. He had practice, I had work to do. We’d have to talk about it at some point, wouldn’t we? Would we?

Yes. We would.

Should I bring it up? Do I wait for him to bring it up?

Does it change anything? Do I want it to change anything?

I shrugged to myself and squeezed out a dollop of shampoo.

Parker wants to date you, do you want to date Parker? I dunno. It didn’t exactly fit into any plans I made to focus on myself.

What will you do about work? Ugh,work. A ten-minute shower was not long enough to figure out that conundrum.

Do you want to kiss him again?

The answer to that question was the only answer I’d had all morning.Um…Yes. Most definitely.

Then what are you going to do about it?

Hmm.

By the time I’d rinsed the shampoo and followed up with everything else that one did in a shower, I was still no closer to an answer. Nor had I figured one out after downing another cup of coffee, drying my hair, carefully applying makeup so I didn’t look as tired as I felt, and getting dressed.

It was not to be found.

Replacing my search for an answer with a search for my cell charger was easier, but no less anxiety inducing when I remembered exactly where I’d left it.

Plugged in next to Sleeping Beauty.

Crap.

I had to meet my team in twenty minutes, which could easily be spent wearing out the carpet with the amount of pacing I’d already completed trying to decide whether to get it or borrow one before concluding I was being entirely ridiculous.

Thankfully, in my hurry to rush out I hadn’t closed the connecting doors properly, which meant, in theory, I could sneak in while he was still sleeping and grab it.

Carefully inching my fingers around the door, I eased it open enough to peer around.

Parker wasn’t still sleeping.

The lump in the bed was missing, but the sound of his shower running came in loud and clear. This was perfect. Parker was preoccupied in what was technically another room, I could definitely grab my charger and leave without him noticing. I wouldn’t even need to run.

Easy.

I was halfway across the room when it dawned on me the noise of the water was way too loud, and all the confidence I’d had in my plan drained away.

Parker hadn’t closed the bathroom door, like he had last night. Nope. It was wide open. And from where I was now frozen in place—miles away from my plugged-in charger—Parker King was standing, his back turned and water cascading over his gloriously,totally nakedbody.

I’d already stared at Parker way more than anyone should stare at a person, but it didn’t seem like I had any plans to stop now. I don’t think I even blinked.

His head bent as he faced the wall, torrents of water traversing down thick, sculpted muscles either side of his spine until it hit the wedge of his ass. Immediately I was taken back to the day in Marnie Matthew’s office where he pushed himself to exhaustion, and I’d spent the rest of the afternoon wondering if his ass was as impressive as his shorts made it look.

Yes, it was. Resoundingly, yes.

Oh boy, what an ass.

I was so focused on his ass that I didn’t immediately realize that Parker wasn’tjustshowering. The rhythmic movement of his arm couldn’t be mistaken for anything else. Nor could the hand flat on the shower wall, so tense that his fingers were almost digging into the tiles.

Every cell in my body stood to attention. My breath shallowed. I had a sudden need to crank the AC.

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