Page 17 of Unraveling with You

Am I really getting off on this exercise? Is that even possible? Glancing at the mirror, my anxiety amplifies from how close Remington is sitting to me. I’ve never let a man watch me come before.

My voice quivers. “I-I need a break.”

“Okay.” Remington immediately steps back, allowing me to stand and stop straddling the bench. My knees wobble as I pull back from it, and Remington grabs my searching hand before I tilt too far.

“Hey,” he says softly.

I peek at him, still flustered from the radiating warmth in my groin.

But Remington smiles. “Thanks for being so honest with me about where you’re at.”

My gaze drops to the floor, but Remington says nothing else. He plops beside me on the ground as we rehydrate. I drop my head back and close my eyes, hoping the sensual ache dissipates. Nothing about Remington is helping, but I’m mortified that I feel this way without him knowing. I feel like a creep.

After a full minute, the feeling thankfully disappears. But when I open my eyes, I laugh at our reflection in the mirror; I’m a haggard, raccoon-eyed mess, and Remington looks like a tattooed, emo edition of Michelangelo’s David. Remington looks at me with one eyebrow raised, then follows my gaze to meet our reflection. His half-up smile greets me.

He chuckles. “What’s up, L.L.B.? You see something funny?”

I laugh. “L.L.B.?”

“Yeah - your new nickname. Unless you want me to keep turning you bright red every time I say Lilibeth.”

I slap my hands over my face before erupting into giggles. “Remington...”

He rumbles through a quiet, deep laugh. When he speaks, I can hardly hear him. “I didn’t say it didn’t work on me when you say my full name either.”

Tingles fizzle in my belly. I peek from my hands, unsure if I heard Remington correctly, but he’s standing with his hand outstretched.

“Alright, I think we should switch to another exercise. You ready for more?”

I’m ready for more than he might realize. I’ve never been this attracted to someone before.

Taking his hand, I hop to my feet with a smile. “Ready!”

Remington pauses. As his gaze lingers on me, he gives me a smile I’ve never seen on him before: rather than lifting one cheek, he keeps his mouth shut as it curves on both sides. Except this smile reaches all the way to his eyes. Then he laughs. A gentle, brisk laugh that speeds my heart into a sprint.

“You’re adorable. Let’s go.”

I bite my lip, strapping weights onto my wrists. Usually, people use words like “adorable” or “cute” to infantilize me, but the gentle, earnest way Remington speaks makes me feel like he saw all the way through me to the excitement in my heart and decided to meet it there.

“You’re adorable too,” I mutter.

Remington has his back to me, but the huff of air from his nose tells me he’s genuinely smiling again. And the tremendous, building desire in my gut tells me it’s too late to stop my heart from chasing after him.

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