He lifts his head and stretches his legs out to the bench across from us. “I’m the perfect size, actually.”
Our conversation lands in my brain, and my cheeks catch on fire. I know we’re talking about this hot tub, but my mind pretends for a moment that we’re talking about something entirely different.
Water laps at my neck as I squirm from the pressure building in my core at the thought of Gavin’ssize.
In my fidgeting, my knee accidentally bumps against his thigh, but I don’t move it. I let it rest there, testing myself in a way that might kill me later.
Why am I putting myself through atest? I don’t even like tests. I don’t agree with them being an appropriate way to assess knowledge. So why am I doing it to myself?
Is it:
A. Because I like how it feels to touch him?
B. Because I enjoy torturing myself by pretending this is normal?
C. Because I like pushing him, teasing him, flirting with him?
D. All of the above.
The answer is obviously D, and I have no idea if that means I pass or fail this test.
A trickle of sweat rolls down the back of my neck as the bunched fabric of his shorts rubs against my bare knee. I didn’t know knees had so many nerve endings, but right now it feels like all my focus is on that tiny bit of skin.
He seems unbothered, with his relaxed face and steady breaths puffing from his lips.
Not flustered and jumping out of his skin like I am.
This entire damn hot tub is boiling.
The urge to sayfuck the rulesand crawl into his lap is pounding in my chest.
I need a distraction.
This knee-based sexual tension is about to make me combust. I don’t know if that’s ever happened before, but I refuse to be the first.
Distraction. Distraction.
“Did I tell you Millie moved out?” I ask loudly, cursing the rapid heartbeat in my ears that’s keeping me from speaking at a normal decibel.
A muscle ripples in his jaw. “No. Are you okay?” he asks, his gentle voice sliding over me like silk.
“Oh, it’s not like a friendship breakup or anything. She just moved in with her boyfriend. And I’m okay. I think?” As I’m attempting to sound sure and steady, his brows press together like he doesn’t believe me. “Well, that’s a lie. I miss her more than I thought I would. But I’m happy for her at the same time,” I admit.
“I’m sorry.” His big hand wraps around my knee under the water, and a flush of adrenaline coils through my body.
The drastic shift in hormones pulls more words from my lips. “Her boyfriend, Finn, has custody of his nieces. So they have their own little family now. I’m at their house a lot, and I adore all of them. But when I’m at home, everything feels lonely.” I lift a shoulder in a shrug. “And maybe it’s a little bit of jealousy … I don’t know. Seeing them happy is amazing, but I know I’m not the kind of person who gets a romance like that. I’m doomed to be the side character to my friends’ love stories forever, and that’s fine. At least I get to see them happy.”
I suck in a deep breath after that string of rapid sentences, embarrassed that I sound as flustered as I feel on the inside.
His thumb rubs the line where my calf meets my thigh, and I don’t know if he realizes he’s doing it, but it makes my pulse pound in my throat and my knee feel like it’s on fire.
“You’ll get your own love story one day,” he whispers, like it’s a fact. Like he knows for sure that it will happen. And I can hardly focus on his words when his finger makes another slide over my knee. “You’re a lot of things, Lena Santos, but a side character is not one of them.”
9
GAVIN
Ihad two rules for myself before I got in the water.
