Page 152 of Going Viral for Christmas
Twenty-Six
SOREN
Ava and I are sunk into the steaming water of her massive soaking tub. She’s between my legs, leaning back against my chest, her head on my shoulder. Relaxing. At least, she would be if my cock weren’t making itself very known.
Her elbow shifts, then stills. She tilts her head back to look at me, one brow arched.
“You planning on harpooning me from behind?”
I choke out a laugh. “Not my fault your perfect ass is parked on a very sensitive launchpad.”
“Can’t even take a bath without you turning into a weapon of mass seduction.”
“Correction,” I say against her ear. “Weapon of mass distraction.”
“Facts.”
Ice is still melting in my sock, which is currently slumped on top of the sad little heap of clothes we peeled off like frozen armor.
Correction—hersock.
Pink. Fuzzy. Glitter-trimmed. A war crime against footwear I’m now strangely attached to.
Ava’s fingers trace patterns on my thigh, doodling her name–and words she doesn’t want to say out loud–in the margins of myskin.
We’ve been here a while. Talking. Not talking. Letting the steam thaw whatever’s left of the walls between us.
Her head tilts back again. “So? Was I right?”
“About what?”
“That snowball fights are a time-honored metaphor for intimacy.”
I huff a laugh, reaching for the wineglass perched on the ledge beside me. We popped it open after declaring a truce and deciding day drinking was the only appropriate way to celebrate a well-fought snowball war.
“Well, if you ask me, the metaphor doesn’t come from the fight.”
“No?” she asks, tone curious.
“No.” A wet finger trails down her bare arm. Goosebumps rise in my wake. “It comes from theafter.”
Ava goes quiet, waiting.
I press a kiss to her temple before continuing. “Sitting here. Naked. Warm. Talking about books, writing, dreams, fears… you.” My voice lowers. “Us.That’s the intimate part.”
She doesn’t respond right away. But something’s cracked open in her without force.
“God,” she whispers eventually. “You are soooo dangerous like this.”
“Like what?”
“All soft-spoken and insightful. Vulnerable. Wet.”
I smirk into her skin. “You forgothung.”
A small splash follows. “Get out of my tub.”
“Too late. You invited intimacy. I’m never leaving.”
