Page 83 of Colliding with Ten

In my room, I stripped down and stepped into the warm shower. She felt present with me, her face threading through every thought. I showered faster, wanting to be back at her side sooner. I wasn’t supposed to be this eager to get back to anyone. I’d sworn off this at the beginning of the season. But around her, I felt calm. My mind stopped obsessing over losses or what the media would say if I missed January again.

I changed into a black T-shirt and grey sweatpants, grabbing my room key just in case. I knocked on our adjoining door, half-expecting her not to answer. Maybe she’d realize this was a bad idea. More time together could complicate things for both of us.

“Come in,” she said.

I exhaled in relief before the lock clicked open. Showered and changed into a soft pink pullover, sleeves rolled, she sat on the suite’s couch. Her collar was loose at one shoulder, baring the smooth skin of her neck and collarbone. The bicycle tights she wore cut off mid-thigh. My breath hitched at the sight of her bare, long leg propped on pillows with a bag of ice resting over a towel on her knee. Curls framed her face as the lamp light painted her skin gold.

“Can I come join you on the couch?”

She smiled, and it held everything I hoped for, affection and want in the curve of her lips. And fuck, how was I supposed to sit beside her, see that smile, and not kiss it? Hear her laugh and not pull her closer, even though I shouldn’t?

I pretended I wasn’t affected, pushing away from the door frame. She adjusted her leg to make room for me.

“I, uh . . .” she started, then stopped, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You said you wanted to watch a movie?”

“Yeah. And food. You’ve probably burned a week’s worth of calories today.”

“Probably.”

The couch dipped as I sat beside her, her warmth close. I kept my distance at first, trying to act normal, rubbing my hands on my thighs.

She adjusted on the couch, trying to find a comfortable position for her leg. She struggled, so I jumped in.

“You want me to fix that?”

Her eyes flicked to me. “Fix what?”

I nodded to her leg. “Your setup.”

She smiled, letting me shift the pillows under her knee higher.

“Better?” I asked.

She nodded. “Yeah. Better.”

Her hand rested near mine on the cushion. My fingers twitched before I curled them into a fist, trying to stop myself from taking her hands. She turned to the television, all business.

“Comedy? Action? Horror?” she asked, glancing up at me.

“Dealer’s choice.”

“Hmm. You don’t strike me as a horror guy.”

“Try me.”

She smirked, clicking the remote. “Alright then. But if you scream when the lights go out, I’m telling everyone on the internet.”

“Payback for the ice bath?” I asked.

She smirked, choosing Friday the 13th. “Maybe.”

“You sure about this?” I asked, leaning back into the couch. “You strike me more as a rom-com kind of person.”

Ayla smirked. “Wow. Judgmental much? I do have range.”

The glint in her eye made me know I wasn’t wrong, but I put my hands up, surrendering to her whims.

“I can handle a few jump scares,” she added.