Her mouth flattened. “Then I guess we’ll have to do our best to ignore each other until things clear up.”
He nodded, although it was more like uncoordinated jerking as his extremities tried to shut down from the cold. “Good thing we’ve had plenty of practice at that.” Her nostrils flared, but he was too frozen to celebrate landing a jab. “Listen, I know we haven’t spoken since… everything went down. But you’ve got my word that I haven’t turned into a murderer or an arsonist or a vegan or anything weird. I’m just a guy who overslept in a strange apartment on the worst possible day.”
She sighed and stood up, gesturing to the coatrack behind him. “Hang your coat up. I’m guessing you’d like a hot shower?”
He almost let out a sob. “Yes. That would be amazing.” He’d deal with his sodden clothes later. Right now he wanted to be enveloped by hot, steamy water.
She pointed to the bathroom. “If you give me a second, I’ll find you some clean towels.”
She might have allowed him back into her apartment, but her voice was as cold as the wind that had buffeted him outside. He didn’t care though; he was already moving across the small living room, hoping he’d be able to feel his toes again soon.
Three
Finn heard the shower start up as she was raiding the linen closet and felt a spurt of annoyance. Her unwelcome guest hadn’t followed her instructions to wait until she’d handed him a towel and retreated to a safe distance.
Tom Castle. In her home. In hershower.Their last real conversation all those years ago had been a screaming match—well, she’d screamed; he’d remained pale and silent—and now he was naked in the next room.Andhe’d had the audacity to get even better-looking in the intervening years.
While she was mentally reconciling the skinny teenager she’d known with the broad-shouldered specimen of today, an idea struck her. She might not be happy with this situation, but her mother had raised her to be hospitable. She rummaged through a basket in the back of her closet until she hit pay dirt and, arms full, approached the bathroom door, which Tom had left cracked open. Taking a deep breath, she knocked hard once.
“I’ve got towels.” She tried to sound calm and assertive, as if she brought terry cloth to naked men every day. Dammit, Josie wouldn’t blink an eye at this; her roommate was so much better at rolling with the unexpected than Finn was.
His disembodied voice floated from the shower. “Come on in. Drop them wherever.”
She could push the whole bundle through the cracked door without ever entering. In fact, that’s obviously what sheshoulddo. And yet that was her hand reaching out and nudging the door open, and those were her feet carrying her into the steamy room, the bundle of fabric clutched to her chest. After all, she’d be in and out fast, and Tom would stay safely behind the shower curtain.
The mostly clear shower curtain with only a small spray of daisies on it.
Oh God.
That dark curly hair, the long torso, those glorious cheekbones. All of it wet and only a few feet away. She swallowed hard and deposited the folded stack onto the closed laundry hamper next to the sink, intending to leave immediately until her eyes snagged on the tall shape standing under the spray. His palms were flat against the shower wall, and his head was tipped forward. She’d bet he was reveling in the warmth after his time outside, closing his amber-colored eyes against the spray as it slid down the muscles of his back to travel downward—
Aaaaand she’d turned into a creeper.
“I left stuff next to the sink,” she yelled, then slipped out of the bathroom, hoping like hell he hadn’t noticed her loitering.
The rest of the apartment felt even chillier after the humid bathroom. She pulled an afghan off the back of the couch and wrapped herself in it before sinking onto the cushions. She should’ve let his worthless ass fall into a snowdrift and be carried away by a snowplow. He deserved it.
Except she’d felt an actual bolt of fear race through her as she’d watched his slow progress in front of her building and thought about him fighting like that for blocks and blocks. For once in her orderly life, she’d acted impulsively, and now she had to figure out what to do with him. Well, notdowith him, obviously, but would it be possible for them to ignore each other for the next twenty-four hours—or, God forbid, longer?
“I need you to stop throwing this hissy fit, Mama Nature,” she muttered to the slice of gray sky visible through the windows. After a moment’s deliberation, she texted a quick rundown of her situation to big brother Jake. Knowing his busy schedule, he’d only think to check it if she’d been missing for a week, but it was still preferable to keep him in the loop rather than her panic-first-ask-questions-later mom. That done, she let the phone fall to her lap as her oh-so-helpful brain conjured images of what might be happening behind that closed bathroom door.
When the shower shut off, she lunged for one of the magazines sitting on the coffee table so it wouldn’t look like she’d been staring into space, thinking about him. Which, of course, was exactly what she’d been doing. She flipped randomly to an article about personal finance for single women but couldn’t stop herself from looking up when the door opened and her houseguest emerged, his cheeks flushed pink from the heat of the shower.
“I don’t know what kind of witchcraft it took for you to find things that fit me, but I’m grateful,” he said. “I would’ve worn sparkly pink tights if it meant not putting those wet jeans back on.”
Her eyes ran down his body. Hewastalking about the clothes adorning his person, after all; she was only participating in the conversation. The long-sleeved DePaul T-shirt stretched across his well-muscled chest, and the black track pants were a touch too short, which made the fuzzy socks he was wearing stand out even more.
She looked down to hide a smile. “My friend’s gym is nearby, and he sometimes comes here to change before or to clean up afterward. We keep a little supply of things for him that he’s left over the years.”
Tom kicked up one foot to contemplate the lime-green and cotton-candy-pink stripes on his socks.
“Okay, not those,” she amended. “Those are mine. They’re the warmest socks I own. I thought you’d appreciate them after your brush with death.”
He offered her a crooked grin, and her breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t seen that smile in so long. She’d missed that smile, despite it all. He still had those dimples on either side of his wide mouth, so deep a woman could fall in if she wasn’t careful.
Good thing she knew to be careful.
“That was thoughtful. Thanks.” He seated himself in the overstuffed chair next to the couch and stretched out his legs, hooking one ankle over the other on the ottoman. His smile faded as he pushed his dark wet hair back from his forehead. “So. Do I need to sleep with one eye open, or should we talk about th—”
