“Pray for him!” Ryan snickers.
I ignore them and cross the deck, acting like I’m stretching my legs… but each step feels heavier than the last. When I reach Sienna’s lounger, I shove my hands in my pockets so I don’t do something stupid, like reach out to see if her skin is as soft as it looks.
She doesn’t look up right away, but she reads a few more lines before marking the page with her finger. “You lost, Mr. Wet-Pants-Wonder?”
“Catastrophically.”
“You’ve been watching me read for twenty minutes.”
“Felt longer.”
“Creep.”
“Guilty.”
She laughs softly, and the sound settles deep in my chest. “You’re not subtle, you know that?”
I let my gaze drop to the way the fabric of her cover-up clings to her damp skin, then back to her face. She shifts slightly, enough to make the lounger creak and for her knee to brush my thigh. The contact feels electric, like a thousand volts surging through me.
“You’re still staring.” She murmurs.
“You’re still letting me.”
She doesn’t deny it but instead reaches out and trails one pink manicured nail down the center of my chest. My abs jump under the light touch before I can stop them.
“You’re tense again.” She observes.
“You have that effect on me.”
Her finger hovers just above my navel, pressing lightly. I gently catch her wrist and hold it there, feeling her pulse hammer against my thumb. She doesn’t pull away but instead curls her fingers, her nails grazing my skin.
“You’re not what I was expecting.” She admits, voice soft and surprised, almost a whisper.
My pulse kicks against my ribs. “Good or bad?”
“Terrifying.” She smiles.
Something raw and hungry rips through my chest, cracking it open wider, letting in heat, chaos, and the terrifying urge to pull her closer. My fingers tighten around her wrist for half a second before I force myself to let go, the loss of contact burning more than it should.
I clear my throat, trying to steady the storm inside me, but my voice still comes out rougher than I intended. “And you’re exactly what I was expecting.”
She smiles wide enough that small dimples appear in her cheeks. “Read with me?”
“What?”
“Sit and read with me.” She pushes herself up and pats the space in front of her. “Or at least pretend. The guys are watching.”
I glance over, and sure enough, the idiots are staring. When they catch my glare, they scatter, suddenly very interested in their phones, towels, and anything that isn’t us.
I groan under my breath and drag the empty lounger beside Sienna until it’s flush against hers before settling down onto it, our arms nearly brushing.
She hands me the open paperback, and I look at it, then at her. “You want me to read… romance?”
“It’s not just romance.” She rolls her eyes. “It’s good. Trust me. Read with me, Milo. I have a feeling your voice would be perfect for it.”
As I take the book, our fingers brush lightly, causing me to inhale deeply as Sienna settles onto her stomach, chin in hand, body angled toward me.
Then I start reading, so low only she can hear. My voice comes out rough with want, nerves, and something bigger. Shelistens intently, eyes drifting over my face like she’s memorizing every detail.
