Chapter 5
Sydney
After dragging my stupid butt off the bed, I opened my suitcase and dug out my toiletries. In the bathroom that was the size of my dorm room, I freshened up the best I could. I wanted to take a shower, but my hair was way too long and heavy to go through the annoying drying process again.
While I untied the pigtails, I noted there would be no need for blush. My cheeks were still flushed and my eyes a bit too big as I threaded my fingers through the links. Freeing one braid completely, I leaned forward as I moved onto the other side, staring at my face. Was that a zit popping up on my chin?
I sighed. Why not? Perfect.
A splattering of freckles covered the bridge of my nose, and my lips were grossly bare. They needed some color. My best feature—or at least what my mom always told me—was my eyes. They were a bright shade of blue that stood out against my dark lashes and hair.
Finishing with the braids, I shook my head, happy to discover that my hair fell in tousled waves down my back instead of looking like I’d taken a crimper to it. I rummaged in the makeup bag, pulling out a tube of mascara and lipstick. After a few swipes, I went back to the bedroom and started toeing off my boots. If I couldn’t shower, then I could at least put something fresh on.
After yanking out all the clothes I’d brought with me, which was way too much for a week, I realized I didn’t have anything remotely sexy with me. A bunch of jeans and sweaters. There was a cami that I could wear under a cardigan, but I’d freeze my ass off in that. Then again, I really didn’t own anything sexy. And seriously, who was I trying to impress?
Kyler, whispered an evil, bitchy voice.
That evil voice wasn’t helping.
Pulling off my jeans, I left them on the floor and tugged the bulky sweater off, letting it join the messy heap. Standing on the tips of my toes, I held up a pair of dark skinny jeans. These could be cute with a turtleneck. Not that the evil, bitchy voice in my head was right or anything. There could be a hot ski instructor at the lodge for all I knew and maybe my bedroom would turn into a train station instead of a bus stop and I—
The bedroom door suddenly opened. “Tanner just called. He said…”
My heart stopped and the jeans fell from my suddenly boneless fingers. Oh, my God…I couldn’t even think. I just stared at Kyler. There I was, standing in my bra and panties. Couldn’t forget the knee-high snowman socks, because they provided oh-so much coverage.
Both of us were frozen, struck absolutely immobile by my nakedness. Time stopped, and kyler…he kept staring at me. I couldn’t remember the last time he saw me naked or at least half-naked. Not since I’d developed breasts, probably, and they weren’t much to stare at. Someone once said more than a mouthful was a waste, but I sincerely believed that saying was made up by girls with small breasts like me just to make ourselves feel—oh dear God, my brain needed to shut up.
Heat infused my cheeks and traveled down my neck and then even further south, to the edges of the white lace, because Jesus H. Christ, I couldn’t have been wearing something sexier than a white bra and striped boy shorts.
Fuck. Me.
And those were the worst two words to even think, because now I was thinking about that, and Kyler was still staring at me like he’d never seen a chick in bra and panties before, which I knew was so not the case. But he was staring at me in a way I had to be completely imagining after years of hopeless wishing, because there was a heat in his eyes, an intensity that felt like a caress against my flushed skin. My lips parted as my pulse sped up, pounding through every point in my body.
He stared like the way he’d said Paul stared at me.
Kyler had never looked at me like that.
The muscles in my tummy tightened and there was sharp sensation snaking down my spine. My knees felt wobbly.
“Jesus.”
His voice was a hard explosion that jarred common sense into me. I dove toward the bed, yanking an oversize sweater off it and holding it to my front. “Don’t you know how to knock?”
He thrust his fingers through his hair. “Shit.”
I stared at him, my entire body burning for two different reasons. Shit? That’s all he had to say? Not ‘Baby, I want to lick your body’ or ‘Ew, cover that shit up.’ At least with that last one, the word ‘shit’ became a viable part of a sentence.
And then Kyler laughed—laughed so hard I thought he was going to physically hurt himself. “I’m sorry,” he gasped out. “But you should see the look on your face.”
My mouth dropped open. “Get out.”
His laughter went up a notch, deep laughs that sent shivers skating over my skin. I grabbed the first thing off the bed and threw it at him.
Kyler’s hand shot out and he snatched my projectile out of the air. His brows went up, and my stomach hit my toes. Something red and lacy and bulky hung from his fingertips.
Oh, sweet baby Jesus on a merry-go-round.
It was my bra—my Victoria’s Secret push-up bra. The kind that had so much padding in the cups that it added five pounds once I put it on.
I clamped my mouth shut to stop the scream building up in my throat.
Kyler’s gaze flicked from the bra to me, and then back to the bra. “Do you wear this thing?”
Unable to answer, because I was pretty sure my response would be all stabby-stabby, I said nothing.
He walked it over to the bed and lay it down like it was some kind of wild animal about to wrap itself around his face. His lashes swept up, his gaze meeting mine. Humor danced in his eyes. “No wonder your suitcase was so heavy.”
“Get out!” I yelled.
Laughing under his breath, he backed away slowly. “Don’t you want to know what Tanner called about?”
I shifted my weight from one foot to the next. “And if I say no?”
“I’m still going to tell you.” He flashed a grin. “They’ve met up with the rest of the group, but they’re staying the rest of the night in Frederick. It’s snowing really bad down there.”
At this point, I expected anything and everything to go wrong. “Crap. Do you think it’s going to get bad here?”
“Don’t know. Guess I’ll go check the news while you put some clothes on.” Kyler started toward the door and added, “Floozy.”
“Shut up, you non-door-knocking-peeper.”
“Nice undies by the way,” he said, dipping his head back in the room. “I like the color scheme. Does it have the day of the week on them?”
I screamed.