Page 35 of Dove
That was the first time I’d wished it’d been me with Josh, instead of Stella.
It wasn’t the last.
Now, though, Stella was gone, and I was here. Perhaps just as close as she had been that day, but no closer to having what she had, no matter how much I wished it.
My dry throat demanded water, but I didn’t dare move. Afraid if I moved even the slightest inch, it would be forward, toward Josh and his kissable, slightly parted lips. The stubble shadowing his jaw was like an arrow beckoning me onward, encouraging my eyes to trail down his bared neck. My lips tingled with the urge to press a kiss to his fluttering pulse.
I couldn’t touch, but I couldlook, right?
There was no harm in looking.
Look I did, mesmerized by the swell of his biceps and the pull of the shirt across his chest. The name scrawled across it in faded letters,PowerFlex Fitness, was unknown to me. A place he’d clearly spent a lot of time at, if the muscles hidden beneath the fabric were any indication. A place somewhere outside the perimeter of our small town, located in a place Josh now called home.
The thought left a bitter taste in my mouth, and I skipped over the blocky letters with disdain. His broad chest tapered intoa narrower waist, but he was far from slim. Josh had always been tall and lean from years of farm work. Somewhere in the time he’d been away, he’d grown into himself, grown into his height and weight in a way that had me wondering what he’d been up to in the years he’d been gone. Josh had always been bigger than me, but now… now he seemed massive in comparison, all solid muscle beneath soft skin.
I nearly died when I noticed the hem of his T-shirt had ridden up just enough to reveal a thin line of skin, paler than his arms or face, considering Josh had taken to keeping his shirt on outside. It puzzled me because he never used to. No one would ever call Josh shy, not when he would sling his sweaty shirt off whenever the heat got the best of him, tucking it into his back pocket like an afterthought as he continued on with whatever he was doing.
I’d always secretly enjoyed the heat waves we’d endure in summer because it meant I’d get a glimpse of Josh’s glistening, bronze chest.
The memory turned my quiet breaths shallow, and my hand itched to slip beneath his shirt, to pull it up and see what was beneath it. That enticing strip of skin looked so soft, with the barest peek of hair visible, hair I knew would lead me further down to somewhere I’d never seen, but I’ddreamtof seeing. Of doing more than just looking.
The wrongness of my thoughts was an afterthought as I imagined what he looked like underneath the baggy material of his sweatpants. It’d been torture, watching him descend the stairs in them earlier. Now I knew why everyone online raved about men wearing them.
I wanted to touch. God, I wanted to touch so badly. I knew it was wrong, considering he was lying there, unaware of my gaze and my wanting, but the ache didn’t care about right or wrong. My hands, tense at my sides, had curled into fists. I forced myfingers to unfurl, and the moment they did, as if freed from restraint, they reached instinctively for the tempting sliver of exposed skin.
I froze, my hand suspended just inches away. I couldn’t touch Josh while he was sleeping. I couldn’t touch Joshperiod. Having these thoughts was one thing, but taking advantage of Josh while he slept? I may have harbored a crush on this man for longer than I cared to admit, but that was no excuse.
Ashamed, I withdrew my hand.
The sound of a breath catching in someone’s throat had me freezing, my hand still in the space between our bodies. A cold sweat broke out over my skin as dread laced through me. My eyes trailed the path they’d taken, back up Josh’s stomach to focus on his still chest. Where his breathing was no longer coming in soft inhales and exhales.
I forced myself to keep going, heart pounding in my chest as my gaze continued up, over the length of his neck, skipping over his lips entirely, only for my widened blue eyes to meet his half hooded, sleepy gaze.
Relief rushed through me. Good, maybe he hadn’t seen anything.
“Do you want to touch me, Dove?” Josh questioned, voice gravelly from sleep. The raspy way he said my name sent shivers running through me, the fabric of my tank top rubbing roughly against my pebbled nipples. His gaze flickered down, as if drawn to them, where they were likely visible from the light casting off the television. I had to be imagining the way his eyes turned molten, vanishing any trace of sleep from his gaze.
“I—I’m going to bed.” I ignored his question, standing up swiftly and crossing my arms. “It’s not comfortable on the couch.”Liar, my mind hissed at me. His chest had rivaled my bed, enticing with its warmth. “We can probably get a few hours in before we have to get up. G-goodnight.”
I slipped around the couch and raced up the stairs, my heart pounding with each step I took.
When I was in the safety of my bedroom, curled under my covers, all I could focus on was how cold and empty the space seemed. How warm and safe I’d been while sleeping with Josh.
Wide awake, willing my heart to calm down, I strained to hear the creek of the stairs indicating he was going to bed as well.
It never came, and I fell asleep wondering if he’d still be here in the morning, or if I’d be left alone, again.
I’d have no one to blame but myself.
11
JOSH
Sleep eluded me, simply because there was absolutelyno wayI was going back to bed after that encounter with Dove.
I listened to her retreat, the close of her door loud in the stillness of the night as she reached the safety of her room. But I knew she wasn’t running from me.
She was running from what she’d felt.
