“You okay? Need help walking inside?” His gaze met mine and only for a second did his attention drop to my legs. He stared right at my face. A door shut nearby, and he frowned. “We should get you out of that wet shirt before my teammates see you.”
I glanced down.
Oh.
I didn’t… the gray shirt was almost see-through, my nipples poking through the fabric completely. My face heated as I crossed my arms. Other people’s nudity didn’t bother me. Myself though? I was shy. My scars already showed too much, and without clothing as a barrier, what else could someone see?
“I didn’t think this plan through.” Callum ran a hand through his wet hair. “Let me run inside to grab a towel. I’ll be right back.”
I stood there, watching Callum’s back muscles as he jogged into the house. I stared at the sun, closing my eyes and lettingthe warmth wash over me as I sorted through my feelings. Maybe the attraction was because I didn’t know this newer version of Callum. I was used to the grade school, middle school, and high school Callum. This almost-NFL version was different and oof. My preferred body type for men were skinnier, leaner. Swimmers, maybe. I’d never been attracted to large, muscular types. Ever.
Yet, my nipples tingled in a different way, and I adjusted my stance. Being attracted to Callum would be the most idiotic thing for me to do. We couldn’t even handle our friendship again, and throwing in attraction would make our relationship catastrophic.
“Here we go.” Callum jogged down with two large beach towels in his hands. He tossed one on the ground and unwrapped the other covered in frogs and held it out for me. We’d bought that towel together on a senior year trip to Panama City. “Come here.”
I walked toward his outstretched arms, and he wrapped me in the frog-covered towel. His lips quirked up as he wrapped me like a burrito.
“I can’t believe you still have this stupid towel.”
“I love this thing.” He wrapped himself with a blue one around the waist. That left his chest on display, and I gulped. His pecs were wet and glistening, and I squeezed my thighs together.
Don’t look at his muscles!
“How is your arm and knee?” He gently lifted my right forearm, running his fingers over the scar that went from mid-bicep to mid-forearm. It wasn’t as noticeable with fifteen years of healing, but he knew exactly where to look. His touch caused goose bumps to explode head to toe. “I still think it would be cool to make this scar into a tattoo of ivy.”
My throat filled with emotion. He didn’t know that I took his tattoo idea, ivy with blue flowers like his eyes, and got it tattooedfrom my hip to my thigh. He used to say ivy was strong as hell and always came back, no matter how many times you tried to get rid of it.
I liked thinking of myself that way and needed the reminder some days.
“You gonna answer?” He narrowed his eyes at me, letting go of my arm. “How are you feeling?”
“Okay, honestly better. I need to rest and take some painkillers when I get home.”
“Are you in a rush to head back?”
“Uh, no, well, I mean?—”
“I can make you some dinner and you can rest here? If you want, of course. If not, I can drive you back.” His gaze moved toward my hips, and he ran a hand over his mouth. He frowned, like he was debating something before he opened his mouth. Then he closed it.
“I’ve never seen you struggle to speak,” I teased.
“I noticed ink on you earlier and am dying to know what it is.”
My skin flushed. No. I would not be showing him that. “That’s a question for another day.”
His eyes flashed with challenge. “Okay. I can deal with that. So, dinner?”
I planned to leave and think, but his eyes had that look in them, like he really wanted me to stay. “Aren’t you sick of me yet?”
“I don’t want you to leave.” He shrugged, but the familiar slump of his shoulders told me he was sad. He spoke in a serious, deep voice. “I’ll always want more time with you, no matter what we do. I’ve always felt that way.”
But three years ago!
I bit my tongue, the tingling sensation between my thighs really liking the way he stared at me. But I needed to shift thistension. From the almost-kiss in the tub to being attracted to him to this… heavy statement, if I was gonna stay, I wanted lighter. “I don’t know, Callie. You banned me from your tree house one year.”
“Because you wanted to play doctor!” he yelled, his smile returning. “It was clearly a tree house for battles, and you had all your stuffed animals and doctor equipment.”
“I’m just saying, you have been sick of me before.” I winked.
