Page 60 of Never Really Mine
“I’ll get it. Then what do you think about watching a movie and relaxing?”
“I’d like that,” Marley replies, the softest hint of a blush on her cheeks.
36
MARLEY
Beau strides out of the guest bedroom into the living room, totally shirtless. He has his hair up in a half ponytail bun, and I swear to all that is holy, my mouth actually waters. Fucking hell, why is he doing this to me? Doesn’t he know how attractive he is?
I squeeze my thighs together as I sit on the couch, growing irritated rather than more turned on. Beau grabs a glass from the cupboard, filling it with water from the sink. He drinks long gulps of it until it’s empty, then sets it in the sink. He glances over at me, and gives me a look of total innocence.
“What?” he asks. He steps toward me, into the living room. When I don’t say anything, he climbs onto the couch next to me. Though, I’m currently laying across the length of the couch resting my book on my baby bump. He lifts my legs in order to sit down, then plops my swollen ankles down on his lap.
“Nothing,” I grumble. To be honest, I really don’t know why I’m irritated with him. I flip the page of my book, realizing that I didn’t actually read anything on the previous page. Well, it’s not like I’m going to turn back the page. He’d notice.
Beau, clearly having a death wish, starts to massage my sock covered feet. He raises his brows. “Marley. I know you. What’s wrong?”
I slap my book shut, resting it against my stomach. “You’re shirtless.” I use the book to point out my words.
“And?” he questions. “I was hot.”
Jesus Christ. I clear my throat. “It’s ten degrees out. It’s March, in Minnesota, Beau.”
He gestures for me to continue, and when I don’t, he repeats, “And?”
I drop my head onto my throw pillow. “It’s cold, Beau!” I’m completely exasperated now, and I myself don’t even know why. “You—” I stutter over the word. “You’re going to get sick or get hypothermia!”
Beau looks at me as if I’ve grown two heads. “Marley, we’re inside. It’s like seventy seven degrees inside, because you’ve been cold this week. Next week, I’m sure you’ll be hot all the time, so I’ll be lucky if the heat is on.”
He’s got a point. My internal thermometer has been all over the place, though that is not what I’m mad about right now. “You can’t just walk around shirtless.”
“Why not?”
“Cause, I can’t, so therefore you can’t. It’s only fair.”
“I never said you couldn’t.”
My cheeks burn. My heart pounds. And my vagina clenches around nothing. I barely register the fact that he’s still massaging my aching feet.
Beau winks.He winks.
I yank my feet from his grip, setting them solidly on the ground as I attempt to move myself to a sitting position. It’s quite fumbled though, since I have a volleyball attached to my gut. “Stop it,” I groan.
“What?” he mumbles, feigning innocence. “I’m telling the truth.”
Exasperated, I groan, deciding to give up on the subject. “Nevermind. I'm crazy.”
“Marley,” Beau says slowly. “I was teasing. If you want, I will go put a shirt on right now.”
“No,” I reply. And then I feel my throat tightening, and my eyes sting. “Don’t.”
He stills. “I… I don’t know what to do. Will you cry if I put a shirt on?”
I attempt to scoff, but it comes out a choked sound. “No. I won’t cry.”
Beau sinks back into the couch, but not before leaning forward to grab my legs. I follow his movements, slowly laying back down onto the couch. He scoots closer to me so that his hip is against my butt, my thighs covering his. Reaching out, he grabs the hand I just rested against my belly. Squeezing gently, he says, “I’ll wear a shirt from now on.”
Shaking my head, I feel overwhelmed. “No,” I reply. “Don’t. I’m just being silly. I don’t even know why I did that. I’m so all over the place. I like…” I trail off, because I don’t know if I want to admit that I thoroughly enjoy him being shirtless.
