Page 51 of Take Me
Clutching the towel, I wad the damp terrycloth into a wet little bundle that I wedge between my breasts.Not taking any chances, I keep a grip on the knot as I turn back to face him.
“Um, so.”Shifting uncomfortably on bare feet, I finally meet Mason’s eyes.“Do you want to talk about stuff?”
“Stuff?”He quirks an eyebrow.“You want to discuss the superiority of Simcoe hops over Mosaic in an IPA, or were you thinking more like a casual chat about quantum physics?”
I let out an exasperated huff.“Mason?—”
“Your towel’s slipping again.”He nods at my cleavage, and I clutch the terrycloth tighter.
“Sorry.”
“Wasn’t complaining.”
Heat floods my cheeks and my chest.Whatever is left of my dignity dries up more quickly than my wrecked dress will do.It dawns on me that if I want to have a serious conversation about what happened in the shower, I’ll need to take this bull by the horns.
Wait.
Do I want to have a serious conversation?
I mean, what if we play it off like that didn’t just happen?Like what just transpired wasn’t a big deal.We can keep moving forward with this fake dating plan and not wreck our friendship at all.
Nibbling my lip, I try to decide the best thing to do.
“Erika?”His brow scrunches up in concern.“Look, I’ll quit horsing around.If you want, I’ll just say it.I’m hopelessly, insanely hot?—”
“Me, too!”I shout, stumbling back toward the bathroom with one hand still holding the towel.The other I lift and start fanning my face.“I think I’m overheating from standing in the shower so long.Thanks again for your help, Mace.I’m gonna go put some Neosporin on my nipples and call it a night.Did you need the bathroom first?”
He stares like I’ve just gone insane.Maybe I have.
Or maybe we both did.That’s the only way to explain how we both nearly burned down our friendship for one thoughtless fling in the shower.
He’s watching my face, and I know what I look like.I’m burning with embarrassment and something else I can’t name.
Please play along, Mason.
Please play along.
Let’s just pretend it didn’t happen.
“Yeah, you’re right.”He clears his throat.“It’s pretty hot in here.I’ll turn on a fan and get ready for bed.You want the left side, yeah?”
“Thanks.”Gratitude rolls through me, washing away some of the heat.“I’ll be out in a sec.”
“Take your time.”
I slip into the bathroom and let the towel drop, my shoulders following suit.My nipples start throbbing from those stupid adhesives as I let my eyes slide to the mirror.
“You almost fucked everything up.”I whisper it softly, my eyes on the slightly chafed flesh of my boobs.“Don’t do it again.”
The girl in the mirror looks grimly at me, already missing his touch.She’s dimly aware that the throb in our body has nothing to do with a stick-on bra, and everything to do with Mason.
I tossand turn through most of the night, hyper-aware of Mason in bed beside me.He sleeps on his side with one hand curled by his face, his toned chest and biceps on naked display.He’s a fallen angel tangled in tan sheets with delicate laugh lines lacing the edge of his eyes.Dark lashes drift like sooty feathers over obnoxiously perfect cheekbones.
Grumbling a little, I roll over and punch my pillow.If I can just fall asleep, it’ll all be a dream.We can wake up in the morning and get back to just beingus.
There was one other time I thought something like this might’ve flashed through our brains.We were both twenty-four, and fresh out of breakups that summer.I’d split with Neil—not the first time, and hardly the last—while Mason had broken things off with a girl whose name I no longer remember.Gretta, that’s it.
“God, I missed this.”Mason dragged his paddleboard onto the lakeshore, then flopped in the grass by his grandparents’ house.“Gretta didn’t like how close we were.”
