She stopped short of declaring the tub a good reason to love him, and instead swallowed so quick she choked on her own spit. “Great.” She had to get close to him to claim her bag, so she gave him a peck on the cheek and a forced smile. “You’re a peach.”
He ruffled her hair, then flopped back on the bed with the remote and flipped on a commentary on the history of the Alabama-Auburn rivalry. “My life mission is complete.”
Except a week ago he would’ve asked if he could join her in the tub, and tonight he let her go alone.
Maybe he didn’t like baths. Too cramped or slippery or hot or something.
But given what he could do in that little space of his shower—nope, definitely something else.
She almost turned around, asked if he was okay.
But there was that commitment taste again.
So she went in the bathroom and turned on the faucet, but she left the door cracked.
Just in case.
Her heart would hate her when this went sour before his expiration date. But she couldn’t move for a man again.
Start school over. Find a new job. Leave her friends. She knew how many hours he put in at work. The higher he went in rank, the less time he’d be home.
The thought of living that life with Jackson, of hating that life with Jackson, made her lungs choke as if the steamy water from the tap were filling them instead of the tub. Her pulse echoed a long-forgotten plea.
Don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me.
And who was to say that pensive expression he’d been wearing half the night had anything to do with her?
Who was to say he’d changed his mind about commitment?
Who was to say she was worthy of his love?
Or if she was, for how long? They had lust, but did they have anything else?
Would she ever have anything else?
She filled the tub and killed the overhead lights. The glow off the hair dryer light illuminated the room softly. But despite the hot water shooting out the jets, she shivered.
“Anna Grace?” Jackson knocked at the door. “Okay in there?”
Definitely not. Not if the mere sound of his voice stilled her internal earthquake. “Mm-hmm. Pruney goodness.”
“Need help getting your back?”
She needed help with a lot more than her back.
Concern knitted his brows together. Stubble darkened his cheeks. She felt a pull of interest low in her belly.
She was already in toes over tomatoes. Wasn’t as though letting him closer would change anything.
And hewasexceptionally talented at helping with her body parts. “I wouldn’t want to take you away from your pre-game coverage.”
He slipped into the room and took a seat on the floor beside the tub. His gaze darted at the foamy water. “Thinking about other coverage right now.”
The dark heat in his eyes made her want things she had no business wanting, and no chance of ever having.
She dropped her head against the cool surface of the tub and ignored that voice in her head warning her to keep her mouth shut. “What are we doing?” she whispered.
His hand brushed her hair. “Whatever comes natural.”
