Page 39 of The Girlfriend Goal
"Start small. Come to the hot tub with me. You're hungover. Hot water helps. Plus, you can test out wanting something without the world ending." He stepped back, giving me space. "No pressure. Just two people who definitely don't have feelings for each other sitting in warm water."
"I don't have a suit."
"I have extras." He was already heading outside. "Coming?"
This was a terrible idea. But I followed anyway, clutching my smoothie like a lifeline.
Chapter 15: Lance
Watching Rachel debate whether to join me was like watching someone perform complex calculations. I could see her weighing variables, assessing risk, trying to logic her way through something that had nothing to do with logic.
"This is weird," she said for the third time, adjusting the borrowed t-shirt she wore over the bikini.
"So weird," I agreed, fighting to keep my eyes on her face. The shirt was mine, hitting her mid-thigh, and seeing her in my clothes did things to my chest I wasn't ready to examine.
She sat on the edge, feet in the water, still calculating. "People don't just... hot tub at 9 AM."
I moved closer, but not too close. "Come on, Fox. The water's perfect. I promise not to seduce you with my hot tub moves."
"You have hot tub moves?"
"So many moves. There's the lean. The stretch. The accidental foot touch." I demonstrated each one terribly. "I'm very smooth."
She laughed, finally sliding into the water. "This is strictly therapeutic. For hangover recovery. Not because I want to be in a hot tub with you."
"Wouldn't dream of suggesting it."
We sat in comfortable silence, the morning sun warming our faces. She'd pulled her hair into a messy bun, and I was fascinated by the way little pieces escaped to curl around her neck.
"Stop staring," she said without opening her eyes.
"Can't help it. You're wearing my shirt." I couldn't help the possessive satisfaction in my voice. "It looks good on you."
"Everything looks good on me."
"Confident. I like it."
"You like everything."
"Not true. I don't like the way you run away every time we get close to something real. We can't keep doing this."
"Doing what?" Her voice had gone soft, uncertain.
"I'm tired of pretending I don't think about you constantly. That I don't look for you at every party. That studying with you isn't the highlight of my week."
"It can't be the highlight. You have hockey, parties, other girls."
"Haven't been to a party in weeks unless I thought you'd be there. Haven't looked at another girl since you yelled at me in that locker room." I moved closer, water swirling between us. "There are no other girls. There's just you, driving me insane with your color-coded systems and competitive streak and the way you bite your lip when you're thinking. "
"I don't—"
"You're doing it right now."
She immediately stopped, then glared when I grinned. "This isn't fair. You can't just say these things while I'm hungover and vulnerable."
"When else am I supposed to say them? You've built walls so high I need a ladder just to get your attention."
"My walls are a perfectly reasonable height."
