His voice is low and sexy, and he must not have hit puberty ten years ago because I don't know how I lived with him for three months if his voice sounded like this. Even the word "bitch" out of his mouth is a turn-on.
"Actually, yes. An apology would be fair, considering we are playing nice, and we have thirty minutes left in our hour. I may never get it again."
"I'm sorry." His voice is rough, like rocks against concrete, and I confirm no, he never had this voice when we were living together.
I gulp another mouthful of wine and pass the rest to Theo.
"Do you still think I'm a pudgy loser?" Our hands brush against each other.
I don't even bother holding back my laugh.
"Theo, I think anyone with eyeballs can see you're no longer pudgy. But a loser? I need a day or two with you to determine that."
Our hands are both on the cup, and when I go to bring it back to my side, he's still holding on.
"What?" I ask.
"Nothing."
He releases it, and I eye him warily.
"This is good wine. I haven't had alcohol in a while."
Instead of admitting I've become dependent on a glass or two every night, I take another sip.
Theo changes positions, no longer sitting chest deep. He stands up and sits on the exterior ledge so his legs dangle in the water.
As he emerges, his board shorts stick to his lower half like glue. He pulls on them to release the heat and trapped air. When this happens, I get a tiny glimpse of the base of his dick. I don't know what else to call it, the neck? Whatever it is, the briefest appearance has my mouth gaping open.
My body aches in places hidden from view, and I squeeze my eyes shut because I know I'll be replaying this moment many times tonight while I'm in bed.
I hate how I'm aroused by his presence. How quickly things have changed from when we were teenagers. I used to be the confident one and advertised it in my string bikinis. Now all Theo has to do is smile and I'm wondering which sexual position he's best at.
"You okay? You look flustered."
"Honestly, Theo, your six-pack stomach looks fake, and I'm trying to figure out how this happened."
He looks down at his torso and laughs. "Trust me, they're real."
And to tease me even further, he rubs his hand across his stomach to prove they're not drawn on.
"Would you like to check for yourself?" He hunches his face closer into the Jacuzzi and I try to conceal the attraction when I swallow.
The wine is long gone. We destroyed that bottle. I could use some water, but I'm not taking the chance to get out of this Jacuzzi and ruin my good view.
"I don't want to get too close. The cooties and diseases, ya know."
"The hour isn't up. You can feel if you don't believe me."
I do my best impression of someone who didn't exhale out their entire body's worth of tension in a single breath. If I don't move, he won't notice how badly my hand wants to betray me and slide over his wet, jacked body.
Instead, I adjust the bikini straps that are failing to support me. Had I known Theo would be out here, I would have chosen a more appropriate suit, like my one-piece.
When my eyes return to his face, he does his best impression of someone who wasn't provocatively staring at a woman's tits.
We decide not to acknowledge the awkwardness because I'm sure he's caught me staring, too.
It's difficult sitting across from someone so pleasing to the eye. Have I never been this attracted to someone in my life? I didn't even have this visceral reaction to Beckett when we started dating. Maybe a diluted version, but never anything so physical.
