Page 58 of Switching Skates
As we pull into the driveway of my house, I notice Maeve’s car is here. She planned on going over to Jackson’s place earlier today. I just didn’t know what time she’d be back.
I’m glad I don’t have to yell at her for missing movie night tonight.
“Maeve’s going to ask what movie we’re watching tonight. You need to tell herA Cinderella Story,” I inform Mason as he kills the engine.
“Got it.”
The front door flies open, and Maeve bursts out of the house and rushes toward Mason’s door. “Daphne! No way! You got to drive it?”
Crap. I kind of forgot that Mason doesn’t usually let anyone drive his pickup. Not because he’s some uptight truck guy, but because she can be a bit touchy with certain things, and Mason knows her best.Herbeing the truck, obviously.
Mason beams with pride, selling the part perfectly. “Oh, you know, Mason can’t say no to me. Besides, I can handle her just fine.”
Maeve’s gaze whips my way. “I can’t believe you, you jerk! I’m driving next!”
Mason hops out of the truck, and Maeve wraps her arm around his shoulders as they walk inside. I lock the truck up, grabbing both of our duffel bags before heading inside after them.
“I’m going to hop in the shower real quick,” I announce to the two of them, who are now in the kitchen, pouring out a couple of glasses of lemonade.
Mason’s eyes find mine instantly. “You know where everything is?”
I know he’s really asking a question within a question here. I can tell from the rise of his eyebrows, which quickly returns to normal so Maeve doesn’t notice.
“Don’t worry. I know how to handle everything. It’ll be fine.”
He holds his stare for a moment before nodding and agreeing with me showering alone. “Okay, sounds good.”
We briefly talked about how showering together is not going to be an option unless we’re willing to always play it by ear, and that’s annoying to have to wait for an empty house.
I make my way to the bathroom and start the water so it can get super hot, just the way I like it. With my back to the mirror, I get undressed and set a towel out for after.
Don’t look down. Don’t look down.
When I step into the shower, hot water hits me, and a smile lifts my lips. I happily spin around in the stream of water like a little rotisserie chicken.
Moving through my usual shower routine, I shampoo and wash my hair before lathering up with conditioner. Now for the big part … literally and figuratively.
Grabbing the loofah, I soap it up and start at my neck, scrubbing and washing my body, working lower and lower. Chest, shoulders, back, abs, sides.
I start talking myself through the next part. “Okay, just going to clean you off real quick, buddy.” I run the sponge over my groin, cleaning from all angles before continuing on to my legs and butt. “Whew, we did it.”
It wasn’t that bad, honestly.
The dick twitches, and I nearly jump out of the shower. I know that I’m somehow triggering that, but I didn’t read the manual for this fucking thing.
Rinsing my conditioner out and body wash off, I wrap myself in a towel and step out of the shower.
After drying myself off and lotioning up, I reach back to set the bottle on the counter and notice something weird in the reflection.
What the heck is that?
Wiping the mirror with a towel, I clear the condensation and turn back around to try to see whatever that was again. A tattoo maybe?
Backing up closer to the mirror, I try to make out the ink and …
I suck in a sharp breath, and my heart jumps into my throat.
Is that a … no way. It can’t be, right?
