Andoh my god.
My mouth is going dry. My nipples are buzzing. There’s a pull between my legs that hasn’t been prompted by a man in probably three years. At least.
Another loud knock pulls me out of my stupor.
I dash to the edge of the bathroom door, just out of sight, then angle in with my back to the door. “Dane,” I hiss, trying to send my voice his way without being too loud and also without getting caught watching him.
There’s aclunk, then a“Fuck!”from inside the bathroom.
“Your sister’s here,” I whisper.
The shower door audibly clicks open. At least, I think that’s what that noise was. “Amanda?” he says hoarsely.
Oh, god.
Was he thinking aboutmewhile he was stroking himself?
I hope so, and then I immediately tell myself to stop hoping so.
This is pretend.
He apologized for kissing me.
We’re not doing this for real. We’re not.
“Hi! Hey. Yes. Yes, it’s me,” I ramble, still hovering half-in, half-out of the doorway, facing the bedroom rather than him.
“What are you doing?”
“Your sister’s here.”
Silence.
More silence.
The loud kind of silence, I mean, where the water is pounding down in the shower and night bugs are chirping outside and where Dane isn’t saying anything.
It’s the ultimate white noise silence.
“I haven’t let her in,” I whisper. “I thought it would be better if she thought we were ... you know.”
If she thought we were doing together what I accidentally just saw you doing solo.
Is the window open?
Can she hear us?
Crap crap crap.
“Hello?” Lorelei calls from somewhere distant but still close enough that I spin and stare at the open bathroom window. She’s still outside. Likely still on the porch.
Would she circle the cabin looking for us?
Or would she leave if we don’t answer?
“Kill the lights,” Dane hisses.
The lights.
