Page 73 of How You See Me
“Thank you.”
He finally comes back to me, his internal darkness fading as he relaxes again. I almost hold back what I’m thinking just to save this tender moment. But he’s opening up more than usual, and I’ve been wanting to know.
“Will you be honest?”
“Always.”
“Why didn’t you kiss me last fall?”
He hesitates, his gaze scanning the water. “You already know why.”
“Not really. I assumed it was the harem I stole you from, all those better options waiting for you back at the table.” I’m teasing, but his expression stays stone-cold serious.
“There is no better option than you.”
I don’t mean to, but disbelief pops out of me with a scoff.
“You’re the ice cream sundae, Josie,” he says sharply, swimming past me. He climbs out—his attempt to end the conversation—but there’s no way I’m letting him drop that little nugget and walk away.
“Is it just Jordan, then?”
“Yes.” He pushes the water off his skin with more force than necessary and reaches for his shorts. I’ve upset him, but for the life of me, I don’t know why until he says, “And it always will be. Your brother isn’t going anywhere, and I will not disrespect him.”
He steps one wet leg into the shorts and gives me his back as I climb out. With the shorts secured, he reaches for his shoes, startled to find me standing beside him. He spins back around.
His gentlemanly restraint is getting old, burning deeper than the cold air on my wet skin.
“Here.” He snatches up his shirt and holds it out with his eyes diverted. “Use this to dry off.”
Thanks, but I’d rather stuff it in a plastic bag to preserve your scent long enough to wear it on my bare skin later.That’s not weird, is it?
“Hayes, please don’t shut me out.”
“I’m not.” He starts toward where I left my clothes, then waves me on. “Someone’s coming.”
Rushing after him, the jagged rocks feel different when the trail is a hasty escape route. I didn’t notice any sharp edges or spiky weeds when I crossed them earlier, my excitement blocking it out. “Ouch.”
Voices travel to us from up the trail, getting closer. What if it’s the park rangers? Would we be fined or arrested for swimming?
Hayes points toward the adjacent tree line, sneakers already on, my clothes gripped in his hand. “Let’s go that way. I think it’ll be a shortcut to the parking lot.”
“I need to put my shoes on.” I wince as the rocks jab into my foot.
“There’s no time.” He takes his T-shirt from me and pulls it over my head. “Hop on.” Spinning, he lowers for me to climb onto his back.
My breath hitches. “You want to carry me?”
“Or you can walk through the woods.”
Well, that sounds infinitely worse. “Fine.”
I push my arms through the sleeves and lock them around his neck. His wrap under my legs, securing me to him, as he takes off.
This couldnothave been a better decision. His athletic frame, working to support us on the uphill climb, is beyondsensual. I want to run my hands over his bare pecs and kiss his glistening neck. I press against him more, my breath brushing over his ear, and his jaw clenches in response.
He picks up the pace, heading toward a large fallen branch as if he doesn’t see it. “Watch out for the—”
The pinecones and bark scrape against his legs, and he stumbles. I can almost hear his skin ripping.
