Page 125 of Get Me to the Starting Line

Paige

thanks for sending breakfast

what?

didn’t you send me breakfast?

nope, we’re heading down to the buffet now

enjoy!

maybe your man friend ordered it for you guys while you were sleeping

he didn’t stay

um, excuse me?

it’s fine, he wanted me to get sleep

bullshit, not fine!

no really, it’s okay

if you say so…

I finish wolfing down my food and then begin to pack. I would’ve done it last night, but I was a little preoccupied. There’s another knock on my door and I laugh to myself. Leave it to Paige to come storming to my room to talk about this in person.

“I told you it’s—” The last word dies on my tongue.

Julien stands there looking like he just walked out of a magazine for the lounge edition of Big & Tall. Grey sweatpants hang low on his hips and a crisp white shirt—one I would definitely spill something on if I was wearing it—hugs his muscles.

It’s then I realize it’s the first time I’ve seen him in a T-shirt. The tattoos on his arm are stark against the white fabric. I’m mesmerized by them. I didn’t have time last night to explore them the way I wanted to.

“Hi,” he says, his voice hoarse.

“Hi.”

His eyes rake over my body, still naked and wrapped in the sheet. I’d been way too hungry to get dressed first, and now I’m regretting it. I feel unbalanced standing here dishevelled while he looks like ... all that.

“Can I come in?” he asks.

Is it just me, or is he hesitating? His face gives nothing away, but I step aside and let him into the room.

“Give me a second,” I say and dash to the bathroom before he can stop me. I throw on a pair of loose, wide-legged pants and a matching pink cropped tank top. I brush my teeth so vigorously I’m surprised my gums don’t bleed. Within two minutes, I’m back out in the room and am rewarded with Julien’s hungry gaze.

I forgot to put on a bra. Or underwear.

“You didn’t have to get dressed on my account,” he jokes. Jokes.

I cannot wrap my head around this man quite as well as I can wrap my body around him. And even that was a feat.

“You left,” I say, trying to keep my voice calm.

His face falls a little. “Didn’t you get my text?”

“I did.”

“I wanted to stay.”

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