“Don’t you dare say that. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Put some coffee on.”
I slid down the wall until I was stretched out on the cool tiles.
Jesus Christ, seventeen years, and this wasstillmy life?
When would it end?
CHAPTERNINE
Two days later
Beck
I wrappedthe towel around my waist, wiped the steam from the bathroom mirror, and leaned against the cool black marble of the vanity.
“So, it’s come to this.” I took stock of the sorry reflection staring back at me, ignoring the small bruise on my left temple where Rhys had slammed me into the copper wall. More than a few spider lines fanned out from weary-looking eyes, and a drift of grey at both temples spoke to the all too rapid approach of my forty-first birthday. Oh joy.
Then my gaze drifted south with even less enthusiasm, hastening over my once flat stomach, which had never boasted a six-pack but had at least possessed lofty aspirations to a one and a half, maybe two on a good day. Now it podged ever so slightly over the top of the towel, and the loss of the dream was worth a weighty sigh.
I turned and sucked it up, pulled a face, gave it a hard slap that had my breath catch in my throat, and then let it plump nicely back into a soft curve under the towel.
Who the fuck was I kidding?
I blew a quick breath and shook some sense into my head. Not gym bunny material by a long shot, but not horrific either. I tried to eat carefully when I wasn’t being led astray by Rafe, and walked most lunchtimes, but nothing was going to hide that slight roundness, even if my height and wide chest did a reasonable job of forgiving the slow but relentlessly changing profile. It was a march against time I was never going to win.
I ran my hands over the lavish beard any hipster would be proud to own and turned my face from side to side, wondering whathesaw when he looked at me. What could a hip, up-and-coming fashion designer possibly want with an almost middle-aged, slightly beaten-up English professor.
I fingered the scar on my upper lip and thought of what Rhys said.
Of all the things to focus on about that disastrous night, the length of my beard had been a convenient distraction. Every time I passed a reflective surface, it called my name. And here I was studying it again.
A little shorter, huh? Was he right?
Because obsessing over my beard was better than thinking about Rhys and what an idiot I’d been to cross the line he’d set just an hour before. Didn’t matter what he’d said before I’d kissed him, we’d agreed to just talking. But under the lights and with him right there, staring up at me, I’d wanted to taste him so fucking badly that I’d ignored those warning bells in my head.
I’d fucked up. I owed him an apology, and a text wasn’t going to do it.
He liked me. Said I was sexy. Flirted with me. But if he’d really been okay with kissing me, he wouldn’t have run. There was no other explanation. And if I could only have him as a friend, I’d take it.
I set the water running and I rummaged in the cabinet for my long-forgotten razor. The least I could do was tidy up the edges. It would be part of my apology, of sorts.
* * *
“Whoa! Holy crap.” Jack gaped from where he was making his lunch, the knife in his hand poised halfway through a ham salad sandwich. “What the actual fuck?”
“Language.” It was little more than reflex.
Jack paid it the respect it deserved. “Holy shit.”
“Is it that bad?” Nerves fluttered in my stomach. Jesus, had I made a mistake? Had Rhys been wrong?
Jack dropped the knife and pulled me under the light. Then he went up on his toes and fingered my now way-too-fucking-short beard—at least, that’s what it felt like—that barely slid past the classification of overgrown stubble. After twenty years, I may as well have been naked for how totally exposed I felt.
He dropped back down, still staring. “Were you high? You had to be, right? I mean, I’ve never seen your chin. To be honest, I wasn’t sure you had one.”
I jumped as he scraped a finger down my jawline and then studied the tip with serious intent. “Wow, and here I thought some of those creatures were extinct.”
“Cheeky shit.” I cuffed him lightly up the back of his head and he laughed. “But honestly, what do you think? I only meant to trim it, but...” I’d been seduced by the memory of Rhys’ sexy grin as he’d given his opinion in the bar and so, yeah, cue one brain explosion.