Page 49 of Losing Forever
I dry off while she stands there in silence, not moving. I wrap the towel around my waist and tug down my wet bathing suit, setting it next to her cover-up on the bench.
Braylee remains quiet, shivering as her gaze flits from my towel, to my swim trunks, and then back.
“Do you want to shower?” I gesture to the bathroom.
Her pale eyes find my face. “With you?”
“Uh…?” I run a hand through my wet hair, nervous over how to respond. She might be in shock still. I don’t want to push her. “I'd like that, but I didn't mean with me. You're cold.”
Her shoulders sag under the towel.
She's disappointed? Well, fuck.
“But if you want to, I'm cool with it.”Jesus. Have I ever sounded like a bigger idiot?
Where's my game?
She stares at the tile floor. “No. It's fine.” Her voice is soft, sad.
Shit.
“What's going on, Bray?” I step toward her.
She steps back, her gaze still down. She pulls the towel tighter around herself. “Nothing. I get it. It's bad. Disgusting. I'm not upset with you. I just…” She shakes her head and glances away. “I'm sorry. I thought maybe you wouldn't care.”
“Wouldn't care about what?” I step toward her again.
The strain and sorrow on her face guts me. Tears pool in her eyes.
“Bray, please? I'm dying here.” I rub a hand over my heart. “Seeing you sad—fuck. It's killing me. What did I do?”
Finally, her glistening gaze finds mine. “It's not your fault. Even I don't like to look at them.” She lets out a sad laugh. “I thought after what you said on the boat about my scars, they wouldn't bother you. I misunderstood.” She wipes away a stray tear and walks toward the bathroom.
“Wait.” I catch her arm, my brain reeling from her words. “You think your scars bother me?”
She shrugs away from my hold. “Yes, Grayson. I just showed myself to you. Showed you my worst scars, and you covered me up.” I reach for her, but she bats my hand away. “I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at myself. For having them. For how I got them. I'll get over it, though. I've gotten good at it.”
She turns away, headed for the bathroom again.
Everything makes sense now. I race in front of her and cut her off at the door. “I am anything but disgusted by you. When you took off your cover-up, I was instantly hard. Hell, I still am. Your body is perfect. I didn't even notice your scars. I couldn't see them—all I saw was you. And nothing about you is a turnoff. I wanted to jump you. That's why I covered you up. To protect you from my asshole, horndog side. I wanted to get you warm too, and I wasn't sure if you were still in shock from the storm. I didn't want to push you.”
She stares at me for a long while, her expression unreadable. Then her features soften a tiny bit. “Horndog side?”
I shrug and grin. “You forgot asshole.”
“You're not an asshole.”
“I feel like a big one right now.”
Her lips quirk with a small grin. She lowers her gaze, her expression thoughtful.
“What?” I cup her cheek. “Don't pull away from me now. I liked how open and honest we were on the island.”
“We're not on the island anymore.”
“Then as soon as it stops raining, I’m taking you back there.” She laughs, and my heart sighs with relief. Damn, if this girl isn't burying herself under my skin. “I have an idea.”
She tucks a strand of wet hair behind her ear and glances up at me.
