Oh, my God.
The heat that races to my face leaves meburning. I should turn away, but I’m stuck. Staring. Holding my breath.
Does he know I’m here yet?
As if to answer me, he jabs a foot into his shorts, gets caught up and falls face first into the mattress.
The thud it makes has me wincing.
Tristen just groans and hikes a leg up higher.
His ass is just …there.
Spread out and showing off the tan line across his lower back accented by two little divots.
I swallow hard and force my gaze to the ceiling.
He’s naked. Tristen isnaked.
Turning away with every intension of walking away, I spin right back.
Yep, he’s still naked.
My breath is shaky when I step inside the room. “Tristen.”
Hesnores.
Nodding, I set the glass on the crate next to his head and whisper, “here.”
I stare at the water for what feels like forever with no clue what to do.
Do I wake him or …
I’m just going to cover him.
Trying my best to resist the urge to look at him, I grab the blanket and drape it over his lower half.
His back rises and falls with his steady breath, and I nibble on the inside of my lip.
I should sleep on the couch.
Grabbing a pillow he’s not resting on, I head back down the hallway and sit in the corner opposite his helmet and jacket.
My fingers fiddle with the edges of the pillowcase so long that a thread actually pops free. Cursing beneath my breath, I smooth out the material then curl into a ball and shove it under my head.
No matter what I do … I can’t seem to get the image of Tristen out of my head.
Doesn’t he feel … exposed?
Swallowing hard, I wonder what it would feel like to be like Tristen. How he’s brave with his body and open with his words.
What would it be like to be shirtless in front of someone?
I pull the strings around my hood tight and shove my head into the pillow.
Even though I know it’s a never ever after kind of thing for me, I can’t help but dream.
What if one day, I could show someone my scars?
