Page 49 of Goal Line
“Luke!” I whisper, even though there’s no reason to be quiet. Everyone in this apartment is now already up.
His back straightens, and he turns toward me. He’s in nothing but form-fitting boxer briefs that show off his muscular thighs and defined abs, becauseof courseI’m waking up to this vision after trying, and failing, to convince myself that I don’tfind him attractive in that way.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“What in the world are you doing moving boxes around at 4 a.m.?”
“There’s a noise coming from one of them, and I’m trying to figure out which box so I can make it fucking stop.” He sounds so annoyed, I almost laugh, but he’s probably exhausted, just like I am. No one should be up at this hour.
“What kind of noise?” I step down onto the floor and head over to what used to be a neatly stacked pile of boxes.
“Found it!” he says, picking up a box and turning to set it on the kitchen table. “This box is labeled ‘bedroom supplies.’”
If we weren’t standing in a nearly pitch-black room right now, I’m sure he’d notice how the blood just drained from my face.Nooooo. This can’t be happening.
“Oh yeah,” I say, but I’m sure he can tell how strained my voice is. “It’s probably one of the massage tools I use for sore muscles after working out.”
“Why the hell would that be on right now?” he asks, ripping the tape off the top of the box.
I step closer, putting my arm between him and the box. “You know what, I packed that all up very carefully. Let me take care of it.”
“Hang on, I’ll grab my phone and hold the flashlight up so you can find it more easily,” he says, stepping away as he heads toward the living room to get his phone.
Oh god, no.I don’t know whether to laugh or cry, so instead, I reach into the bigger moving box to find the smaller decorative box that contains my collection of sex toys, which I know are the only things that could be making that pulsing sound.
“I don’t need a flashlight, it’s fine,” I say, hoping that for once his “I need to help everyone” instinct will just chill the fuck out.
No such luck. He starts walking back toward me with his phone, saying, “It’ll be easier to find it if you’re not fishing around in the dark.”
“I’m good,” I say as I flip open the lid of the decorative box and wrap my fingers around the offending vibrator.
“Don’t be silly,” he says, tapping his screen so the back of his phone lights up.
My hand shoots out to block the light. “Stop right there,” I say, and he freezes. I’m sure my face is bright red, and my embarrassment is on full display under the bright light he’s shining right at me.
“Why?” he asks, his voice tinged with suspicion. I don’t blame him; I’m acting highly suspect. But if he takes even two steps closer, he’s going to see exactly what’s in my hand below the open flaps of the cardboard moving box. Since I’m so lost in panic that I don’t respond, he presses, “What’s in the box, Evie?”
I can tell by his teasing tone that he’s got ideas, and I certainly don’t want to confirm his suspicions.
“A lot of stuff you don’t need to see,” I say, looking down at the silicone dildo pulsing in my hand. I move my thumb over the button at the end, and my anxiety decreases when the sound stops.
“What kind of stuff?”
With a huff, I set the toy down and flip the lid back on. “Let’s just go back to sleep.”
He turns off the flashlight, and his deep chuckle fills the space. “Maybe you should just tell me what that was so I don’t keep myself awake wondering?”
I fold the flaps of the moving box shut and glance up at him. “I told you. It was a massage tool. There was just other stuff in the box I didn’t want you to see.”
“Uh huh,” he says, eyes narrowed on me as he steps closer.
My swallow sounds like a gulp in the space that’s now frustratingly silent, and then the fucking vibrator starts doing its thing again inside the damn box.Kill me now, I think, wishing the floor would just open up and swallow me.
“Can you take the batteries out?” Luke asks with a laugh.
I wish. “It’s rechargeable.”
At least I can hide my embarrassment in the darkness.
