That isnotwhat I expected her to say.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
TO BE FAIR, I’m clumsy even when I’m sober. So the fall is no surprise.
I’m definitely still buzzed. Holland leaving was the last thing I wanted. But asking him to get in the shower with me? That’s more of a Vivian move. I’m not sure I have moves.
“You’re drunk.” His voice is flat and hard to read. “Sort of against the rules.”
Nothing like offering yourself up only for a hefty dose of rejection. This is awesome. “If you don’t want to, you don’t need to make excuses—”
“I want to. Are you fucking kidding me? Of course I want to,” he interrupts.
His voice is like a jolt to an already charged system. And that makes me want him in here with me even more. His response turns my nipples hard under my covering arm.
“I’m not drunk. I’m buzzed. What are the rules forbuzzedwomen in your shower? I feel like we can make this work,” I say like I’m negotiating a deal.
He breathes in deep, eyes to the ceiling. With his lips pressed in a thin line and his hands on his hips, a look of determination tells me his wheels are turning.
“Ivy, are you sure?” He sounds exasperated and almost like he’s pleading.
“I promise. I’m sure.”
Holland and I hold eye contact. After some long moments, he closes the curtain. I sit up and pull my knees to my chest, unsure of what’s going to happen next.
He peeks his head in the shower. “You’re a hundred percent sure this is okay?”
“Yes,” I reply. And it is. I’m trying to be serious but it comes out more playful than I hoped. I don’t want him to deem me too drunk for him to get in here.
Less worrying and more doing. Out of all the ways this man makes me feel, the thing at the top of the list, is safe.
Holland steps into the shower, still wearing his boxer briefs. I can see his length pressed into the fabric. He wasn’t exaggerating about wanting to get in here. He reaches his hands to me and effortlessly pulls me to my feet. Cautious and strong.
“You’re still wearing clothes,” I say.
“These are the rules. No sex. Not when you’ve been drinking.”
I nod. I’ll take something over nothing.
Holland puts both of his hands on my face, brings his nose close to mine where it’s almost touching, and then stops. My heart drops.
“What’s wrong?”
“Why do you assume something’s wrong?”
“It’s how I’m wired.” I shrug with his hands still on my face. My arms awkwardly hang to my sides. A wave of doubt threatens to crash over me.
“Nothing’s wrong. I’m just… taking this in.” His eyes drift to my lips. And then he does this ridiculous half-smile thing. And I can’t breathe.
This. Man.
I could melt. Or combust. Holland is thoughtful and kind, but right now, he makes me want to burst into flames. I want his hands all over me.Hell, I want his smirking mouth on every inch of my skin.
When I think I can’t take another second, he leans in and kisses me. Likereallykisses me. His hands move from my face to my hair, lightly pulling, and then stop at the nape of my neck. After a few seconds, he pulls back and looks me in the eye.
The flutter that was in my stomach is now rattling in my chest. I swear, he can feel it, because he smirks and then puts his lips back on mine.
The water is almost scalding and the air is thick with steam. My mind is calm and full of need, all at once. Not sure I could’ve dreamed up a better first kiss.
