“Shower’s all yours. I have a clean towel in my room, and you can borrow my clothes.”
I gawk at him for a second because he cut me off. I was trying to tell him I needed to shower so that I could go home.
He points. “Shower is across the hall.”
I nod, turning on my heel. Looks like I’m showering here.
After a fifteen-minute shower, I sneak across the hall and back into Dylan’s room. I close the door quietly and jump at the sound of his voice behind me.
“Shit, I didn’t know you were in here,” I say, clutching my chest.
He looks at me in the towel and says, “I found some clothes that could fit you. Maybe. Here.”
I smile, walking over. I sit on the bed and tug the towel tighter around my body. I hold it under my arm as I check out the shirt he gave me.
“You wear this shirt all the time,” I chuckle.
He nods.
I throw it on and let the towel slide down now that I’m basically in a t-shirt dress. I stand, knowing that the shirt covers my bottom half. The towel drops on the floor, and when I meet Dylan’s eyes, they’re dark and full of heat.
“What’re you doing?” he asks, like I’m doing this to taunt him.
I grab the shorts and walk towards the door. I bend over to put them on. I quickly slide my feet in and pull them up. I grab the drawstrings and tighten them around my hips.
He inhales, looking at my body.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
He shakes his head slowly as he watches me.
I sit back down. “What’s going on?”
He stares at my shorts, tilting his head as his eyes travel up my body. I smile, lifting my brows.
“I can take you home,” he says after a minute.
I relax a little as I nudge his shoulder. “If that’s what you want,” I joke.
“It’s not.”
My eyes meet his. “Then why’re you saying it like that?”
He lifts his hands, reaching his fingers towards my face, and stops right before he touches me. “Because I…”
My eyes flutter, reacting to his fingers as if they’re touching me. My breath catches. A few moments pass, so I close my eyes and say, “You need to find your words, otherwise…”
When I open my eyes again, his hand is gone. “Otherwise, what?”
“I can’t read your mind.”
“But you can read my body language, can’t you?”
I smile, shaking my head.
“You can’t?”
I shrug. “Actions mean something, sure, but words are important too.”
