“You really are something else, you know that?”
She giggled under her breath, tilting her head slightly toward me. “You say that a lot.”
“That’s because it’s true,” I whispered.
I rested my chin on her shoulder, my arms sliding around her waist, fingers brushing the curve of it, small, delicate, as if she was made to fit against me this way.
“You asked if I swim,” I murmured against her ear. “Do you?”
She froze for half a second, then shook her head quickly. “No,” she said shyly. “I don’t really… exercise.”
I couldn’t help but huff out a laugh, my breath skimming the side of her neck. “Could’ve fooled me.”
Her head turned slightly, just enough for me to see her pink cheeks through the fog. “What do you mean?”
I smiled, tracing light circles on her waist with my thumb. “You’ve got a nice body for someone who doesn’t exercise.”
The way she blushed, it went all the way to the tips of her ears. She tried to hide it by turning away, muttering, “I walk a lot.”
“Yeah?” I asked, voice low, teasing but gentle.
“Mm-hmm,” she mumbled, playing with the water, letting it run over her fingers. “I walk everywhere. Bus stops, class, shops… sometimes just around when I can’t sleep.”
I smiled against her shoulder, pressing a small kiss there. “That’s probably it, then. All that walking.”
She giggled, the sound soft and sweet, and leaned her head lightly against mine. “So technically, I do exercise.”
“Technically,” I agreed, tightening my arms around her just a little.
I don’t know what came over me, maybe the way she looked up at me, maybe the way her hands hesitated midair like she didn’t know what to do with them, but I spun her around.
Her gasp barely made it out before I caught her lips.
The water hit our skin in soft rhythms, her hands sliding up my chest before settling against my neck. She kissed back, unsure at first, then steady, then… completely hers. The kind of kiss that made everything else disappear, even the sound of the shower.
When we finally pulled apart, she was still holding onto me, breathing fast, eyes wide and glassy.
Her lips brushed mine again as she whispered, “We’re wasting water.”
I laughed quietly, leaning my forehead against hers. “If I turn it off,” I murmured, “do I get another kiss?”
Her cheeks flamed red instantly. “You already did,” she mumbled. “A long one, too.”
“Wasn’t that long,” I teased, voice low, brushing my thumb over her jaw.
She huffed a laugh, breath still shaky. “It made me breathless,” she whispered, “so it was long.”
I stared at her for a second, completely defeated, my heart doing that stupid thing it does whenever she says something that feels like it came from the softest place inside her.
“Fine,” I said, pretending to grumble.
I reached over and turned the water off. The sound of dripping filled the air instead. Before I could move, she leaned in and pressed one small, sweet kiss to my lips, soft, short, nothing like the first.
Then she smiled, grabbed a towel, and wrapped it around her body before stepping out. I just stood there for a second, water dripping from my hair, watching her walk away, her laughter echoing faintly through the steam, and I couldn’t stop the smile tugging at my mouth.
Hopeless. I was absolutely hopeless for her.
Chapter Sixty-Three
