Page 108 of Bottle Shock
We break apart as Maggie freezes in the doorway. She’s smiling so wide her eyes practically disappear.
“No, please don’t stop on my account,” she says, flustered but bemused. “I was just coming in to grab the s’mores stuff. I thought you two might’ve turned in for the night.”
Scottie’s face goes pink, her forehead dropping briefly to my chest as I laugh under my breath.
Maggie just beams brighter. “Don’t mind me,” she says, grabbing the basket before making a swift exit. “As you were,” she sings over her shoulder as she walks back out the door.
We only stayed around the bonfire for another half hour before calling it a night.
It’s been a long day, and I think both of us are ready for some privacy.
The problem is now we’re alone—just the two of us—behind the closed doors of a bedroom on the opposite end of Carl and Maggie’s, with a single bed at the center that might as well be glowing.
There’s an unspoken elephant in the room with us.
But now doesn’t exactly feel like the right time. Not with how we left things in the kitchen. Ever since then there’s been a heavy weight in my chest. Her sad eyes haunting me. The way it felt like she was already giving up on us when we’ve only just begun.
Scottie closes the door with a soft click and lets out a breath. Her arms cross over chest, pushing her breasts up in a way that makes my thoughts drop to the gutter.
She moves to sit at the edge of the bed, curling one foot up under her, watching me with a look I can’t decipher. Her tank top is loose, straps thin, and I can see the outline of her nipples through the fabric.
I can’t read her, I can’t feel where her head is at.
“I’m going to shower,” I say keeping my voice even. “Unless you want to first?”
She shakes her head with a faint smile. “No, go ahead.”
I nod and grab a clean towel from the dresser.
My chest feels tight—tight enough that it’s hard to breathe around it. I don’t want distance. I don’t want space. But if I stay in this room with her, with the bed and her eyes and all the things she’s not saying, I’ll either say too much or touch her again just to feel close.
And I don’t want anything that happens between us to be something she regrets.
I step into the bathroom, but leave the door unlocked on the very small chance she decides to join me.
The water warms fast. Steam fills the space, softening the mirror and fogging the air. I drop the towel and step under the spray, bracing my hands against the cool tile as the water beats down my back.
My dick is rock hard, but instead of relieving the ache, I ignore it. Making myself come won’t stop my need for her.
I stay under the water longer than necessary, letting the air go dense and hazy around me.
By the time I’m finished, I’m almost certain I’ll find her asleep. Instead, I step out and the room is empty.
My stomach drops, breath catching, panic surging in an instant. Did she leave without telling me?
I scan the space and a small pang of relief hits me when I see her bags are still here.
A moment later the bedroom creaks open and Scottie walks through, wrapped in a fluffy robe.
“I used the bathroom down the hall,” she says, flashing a look at me over her shoulder as she puts away her toiletries. “You were taking forever.”
“Sorry,” I respond, distracted, imaging her naked beneath the terry cloth.
I swallow harshly and then clear my throat. “I can sleep on the floor and you can have the bed.”
She spins to face me, eyes bright, lips rolling before settling into a smile. “Why would you do that?”
“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” I say, throat tight. “I’m trying to be a gentleman.”
