We trudged up the same old, creaky stairs I knew by heart, every squeak and weak spot memorized. Teenage me had been a menace. My old bedroom still had the same posters from my high school football days and the same bed that was technically too small for me, even back then. Ellie walked in behind me and looked around as if she was seeing inside my brain.
“This is where the legend began, huh?”
“Yep.” I dropped the pajama bag on the bed. “Where I first mastered eating six Pop-Tarts in a row and never once did laundry.”
She stepped closer, grabbing the bag of pajamas. “I still can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”
I smirked. “I’m very persuasive.”
“Um, is there a bathroom I can use?”
I hesitated, my voice low. “Yeah, but I’ve got a feeling this is a test.”
“A test?” Her eyebrow lifted.
“Colt’s figured us out, and I think Dotty’s got her suspicions about us not actually being a real couple. Forcing us to change in here? It’s definitely a test.”
She laughed softly. “Alright then…turn around.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “What if I don’t want to?”
“Sawyer,” she said, stern but playful.
I let out a dramatic sigh and obeyed, facing the wall. I smiled when I noticed the mirror beside me, and since Ellie didn't sayno peeking, I selfishly looked. She bent down to grab her PJs and slid her jeans down with agonizing slowness.
And fuck—her legs were endless, smooth curves that made my fingers physically ache to trace them. The perfect little curve of her ass was practically begging for my hands, and I had to grip the dresser edge to keep from reaching out.
I forced myself to look away, but the damage was done. The image was burned into my retinas for years to come.
“Are you peeking?” her voice teased from behind me.
“No.”
She spun around, catching my reflection in the mirror. “Liar.” Her lips curved in a smile that was pure trouble.
My heart hammered. “Maybe.”
“Well, then you might as well watch.”
I turned around as she peeled off her shirt, her eyes locked on mine the entire time. Her bra was pretty and pink, and I nearly groaned. My pulse went haywire. How could something so simple make me want to lose every shred of control I had left?
She bit her bottom lip. “Like what you see?”
“You know I do.”
Once she was dressed, she had the gall to look innocent, but her chest was rising and falling rapidly still. “Your turn.”
“Enjoy the show.” I shrugged off my sweater with one hand.
“Not looking,” she said, turning away.
“You should.” I let my sweater hit the floor and reached for the hem of my shirt, pulling it off.
She turned back around and eyed me up and down.
I watched as her eyes tracked every inch of exposed skin as I changed into the pajama pants. The air felt tighter in the room, like we’d sucked all the oxygen out of it.
“You good?” I asked.
