Before I can decide, he stops. Just… freezes.
I watch something shift behind his eyes, a flash of emotion that I can’t quite read, before he pulls back. His hand comes up like he’s going to touch my face, but it falls away before making contact.
“I should—” His voice comes out rougher than usual, and he clears his throat. “We should both get some sleep. I’ll give you some space.”
The words sound stilted and awkward, and I doubt he’s any more tired than I am right now, so I have no idea if he’s just making an excuse or not. But before I can respond, he’s already turning away. The sauna door opens, letting in a rush of cooler air, and then he’s gone.
I stare at the door, my lips still parted, my body humming with the aftershocks of what we just did.
What the hell just happened?
Chapter 20
Grant
My alarm blares on the nightstand, jarring me out of sleep. I’m normally awake at least a few minutes before it sounds, but not today. Even with my eyes still half-closed, I know there’s nothing normal about this morning.
For starters, I don’t feel rested at all. Instead, I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.
No, that’s not right. I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck and then dragged behind it for several miles.
Because of last night.
The memories come flooding back as soon as I swing my legs over the side of the bed, and the feeling that I’ve fucked up is so overwhelming that I have to stop for a second just to keep my stomach from turning.
Ugh, this is worse than a hangover, and I didn’t even have a drop to drink.
But between the length of time we spent sweating in the sauna and the mind-shattering orgasm that has my toes curling just thinking about it, I’d say I’m probably on the verge of being dehydrated.
I squeeze my eyes shut and press the heels of my hands against them, then count to ten before opening them again.
I don’t know what the hell I was thinking. No, I wasn’t thinking. That’s the problem. I was operating on pure instinct and desire, and now I’ve really, truly fucked up.
The confused, hurt look on Heather’s face as I walked away keeps replaying in my mind. I should have stayed and talked, or made sure she was okay at the very least. But I bolted, like a fucking idiot.
I sigh and start going through the motions of my morning routine, pulling on some gym clothes and heading downstairs for the less intense, weekend version of my daily workout.
The exercise helps, but my head isn’t fully in it. Even the most grueling sets can’t drown out the sound of Heather saying my name as she came apart in front of me.
Hell, I’m half-hard just thinking about it now.
I push those thoughts away and finish my workout, then head upstairs. I’m not sure what I’m going to say when I see Heather, but I can smell coffee and something sweet—pancakes, maybe—so I have about three seconds to man up and figure out how to fix this.
“Good morning,” I say as I enter the kitchen.
I’m doing my best to keep my tone casual, but I can see the way Heather tenses up from twenty feet away, so I’ve probably missed my mark by a mile.
“Good morning,” she replies without turning to face me.
Her shoulders are so tense they’re practically up by her ears, and I still don’t know how I’m going to make this better.
But then I catch a glimpse of her profile as she flips a pancake, and I’m right back in that sauna, watching her bite her lower lip as her fingers moved between her legs.
I can remember exactly the way she looked at me, with her eyes half-closed and her cheeks flushed with heat. She trusted me in that moment, and she looked fucking perfect when she finally let go.
I walk to the fridge for some water and try to think about literally anything else.
I shouldn’t have left like I did. I know that now, and I knew it in the moment. Just like I know that’s why she’s pulling away and putting up walls between us that weren’t there before.
