“I should probably shower,” he blurted, pushing the plate away. “And brush my teeth a few times.”
Heath stopped the plate with his fingers and pushed it back. “Please eat a little first. A shower will help, but you need a full stomach to fully fix this day.”
“You just want first crack at the hot water.”
Heath smiled, but didn’t deny it.
He tore off a piece of the roll and shoved it into his mouth. Chewing was safe. It gave him something besides illogical thoughts to focus on.
Was the day broken? He might have thought so when they’d been arguing. Or when he’d lashed himself to the wheel of Nate’s yacht trying not to be flung overboard. But now? No, he didn’t think it was.
“Fine. Shower’s yours.”
Heath bounced upright and turned to the hall. “Oh, thank God. I swear I’ll make it quick, and that plate better be empty when I get back.”
“What’ll you do if it isn’t?”
Heath stopped in his tracks, hands grasping either side of the doorway. The lean muscles of his arms twitched as he tapped on the wall, and Evan stared at the motion, wondering if Heath was trying to keep himself from leaving or from turning around.
What’s your preference?
His mind raced down several paths at once. It was instinct tochallenge someone looking to boss him around, but there were challenges and then there were invitations.Thatwas an invitation.
Deep breaths. It was just a joke, right? Heath was bound to take it that way, and then time would return to moving forward, instead of this back-and-forth shuddering that kept happening.
Heath cleared his throat after an endless pause, but didn’t turn around, and Evan watched those twitching muscles go tight.
“This is probably a foreign concept to you, Westin, but it’s terrible manners to write checks you can’t cash.”
nineteen
. . .
Heath closed and locked the bathroom door, leaving a trail of clothes on the way to the shower. His dick was in his hand before he’d even turned the water on.
What will I do? Jesus tapdancing Christ.
Evan was suffering from shock. Yes, that was the reasonable explanation. He was exhausted, the experience on the boat traumatic enough without the addition of having triggered an unpleasant memory. Coupled with the lasting effects of his sunburn, it was no wonder he’d acted out of character—again.
It was a solid hypothesis, but it didn’t account for the drop in Evan’s voice making his comment sound very much like a deliberate come-on.
The throbbing weight in his palm agreed as he replayed both that and the kiss over and over in his head. A new conclusion: the man was simply an incorrigible flirt.
Okay, in fairness, the kiss was his fault. A momentary lapse in judgement that could have happened to anyone in the face of certain death. Evan kissed him back, after all. Surely they’d had the same thought.
Why didn’t he kiss Isabella, then?
Dammit, no! Evan was straight, and no amount of emotional breakdown or snappy banter would change that.
Lust roared in Heath’s ears, stiffening his cock as it demanded he shed this inconvenient need for rational explanations. It got in the way of believing that Evan meant it. That he was out in the kitchen right now hoping… for what? For Heath to jump him?
What about the moment on the hilltop and how uncomfortable he’d been? What about that?
Are you sure it was discomfort?
No, he wasn’t. There’d been multiple opportunities for Evan to shrug him off or tell him to cut the shit, and he would have. If he could be certain of anything, it was Evan happily telling him to get fucked if he went too far.
Evan had done no such thing. Instead, he’d gone prone, dropped his chin to his chest and melted into the soft strokes of Heath’s hands on his back. When he’d dared to drift lower, Evan’s breath had caught, and he’d arched his spine just the tiniest amount. Imperceptible, if Heath hadn’t been admiring the gorgeous curve of his ass at the time.
