The dryer dings at the same time I walk into the laundry room. I rake all the clothes into a basket, pulling out her pants, her sweater—I hesitate before reaching for her bra and adding it to the growing pile. Finally, her underwear. I sewed them back together, though she’ll probably throw them out after this. The panties are innocent, pink with white polka dots, but handling them makes my dickswell in my pants because they belong to Brie. This piece of fabric has hugged her ass, rubbed her pussy, gotten soaked by her.
I close my eyes and give myself a stern talking-to.
Brie willneverwant you the same way you want her. Get a fucking grip.
Outside the bathroom, when I don’t hear the shower running, I rap lightly on the door.
It opens a crack, and one wary brown eye peeks out.
“I brought your clothes.” I hand her the pile, with a few things of mine on top. Not because I’m hoping she comes out in another one of my shirts, but for comfort.
And because I want to see her in another one of my shirts.
The door opens wider, and I drink in the sight. Her hair is damp. Bare legs and feet. The only thing she wears is a towel, held tight with one hand at her chest. A bead of water trickles down her neck, and I want to lick it.
She moves to the side, letting me in. “Thanks.” She won’t meet my eyes.
I step inside just enough to lay the heap on the counter, but I stop short when I take in a breath. I know all the products in here. Brie used what I use every day. But it’s different somehow, and it smells so good.
Nope.
Turning stiffly, I tip my imaginary hat in her direction and exit the bathroom, closing the door behind me.
Then proceed to tug at my hair when I realize I gave her ahat tip.
I have no chill when it comes to Brie Casey. I turn into a drooling idiot around her, and honestly? I’m not even ashamed.
But I do have to control myself. I know how this townoperates, and there’s no way the roads’ll be drivable even by tomorrow. I’ve got to keep my hands to myself from now on. It’s the respectful thing to do, and it’ll keep me from being completely destroyed when this is all over and Brie remembers who she was stuck with.
Defeated, I go back outside to bring in my jacket and some wood for the fireplace. I busy myself with building a fire, only looking up when the door to the bathroom opens again.
CHAPTER 31
BRIE
I pacein front of the windows while Sawyer’s in the shower. How do I know he’s in the shower? Did hetell mehe was going to take a shower? No. Did helook at mebefore he walked into the bathroom? No.
Did he walk into the bathroom without even a glance, shut the door, thenaudibly locked it? Yes. Yes, he did.
What am I even doing here?I’m not that same teenage girl. I don’t have to take his shit. When I ran and hid (yes, I’m big enough to admit it: I hid) in the bathroom earlier? That’s the last time I act like that little girl.
I look out the back windows, past the covered porch. It can’t be more than six miles to Gia’s house. It’s barely snowing anymore. Surely businesses have salted the sidewalks by now. Maybe the streets in town are even cleared.
In a split second, I make the decision. I hurry to where I deposited Sawyer’s jacket by the door, and pull it on. I take his gloves for good measure, and his stupid hat we used as a blindfold for that stupid game. Then I shove my feet into my shoes and walk out the door into the cloudy haze of thelate-afternoon. In my seething ire, the door shuts behind me with a bang.
I storm off with enraged confidence, not bothering to look back or give myself time to second-guess. This is the right decision—I can sleep in my bed at Gia’s tonight and never see Sawyer’s stupid face again.
I’m not even halfway down his salted walkway when the door behind me opens and slams shut again.
“Brie!”
No. Refusing to let my guard down, I keep my gaze ahead and storm offharder. I will not be deterred. I will not be persuaded. I will not be coerced.
I hear the quick slapping of sandals, and in no time he’s in front of me.
Naked.
Well, not totally. A towel is slung low on his hips, and he wears those slides I wore for the tour of his house. But his hair is dripping and his incredible torso glistens. His defined pecs and abs tense and goosebumps erupt as flurries melt on his skin. His large shoulders lean toward me just a fraction as he runs those long fingers through his damp hair.
