When he lifted his finger and twirled it in the air, my arms crossed. “You can twirl yourself around me if you want to see the back view.”
The smile turned more into a smirk as he started to wind around me. Another throaty sound came from him when he paused behind me. When he stayed back there, I twisted my head to see what he was doing. He was staring at my back, the top of it, his hands behind his head.
“I know I’m going to sound like one of those animals I just warned you about, but damn, my name on a beautiful woman’s back is doing things to me I’m not sure are twenty-first-century approved.”
I spun around so fast, I teetered thanks to the high heels and soft ground. “Should I call the Feminist Police? Because I know the chief.”
“Yeah? Who’s that?”
My eyebrow lifted. “Me.”
Soren fought a smile, still staring at his jersey wrapped around my body. “Then I’m definitely not going to tell you what I’m thinking about now.”
“Dear god, please don’t.”
Soren stepped toward me, something in his eyes inviting me closer. So I took a step away.
“Seeing my name on your back, the way it’s making that damn beast inside all of us dudes throw its head back and roar, makes me want to ask the woman I marry one day to tattoo it on her back. In big, bold letters. We’re talking so giant, a satellite could pick that shit up in outer space.”
My mouth had fallen open from the start and kept dropping with every word.
He moved around behind me again. “‘Decker.’ Seriously, I’m going to start looking into tattoo artists now. Feel my arm. I’ve got goose bumps.” His arm appeared beside me, but I didn’t touch to confirm that yes, goose bumps galore. “I mean, I’m fucking hard—”
He abruptly cleared his throat and went in a different direction with his body’s “approval rating,” but I didn’t hear it. At least not at first.
Had he actually said that?
I mean, was he really?
He was still standing behind me, still drooling over his name, so I couldn’t confirm it. Not that I should be confirming if he was hard anyway, but curious minds . . .
Peeking over my shoulder, my gaze dropped to his zipper. Damn, damn, double damn.
So he really was. Hard.
Hard to hide something like that. Hard.
Stop thinking the word hard, Hayden.
My cheeks were already flushed enough without getting redder from singing a soliloquy of “hards” in my head.
He really was Jumbo.
Jumbo.
Stop thinking the word jumbo. So much worse than hard.
And there it was again. Since I clearly was incapable of not saying it to myself . . .
Fine. Soren Decker had a hard, jumbo-sized dick.
Like I cared.
That part of his anatomy had no relevance where I was concerned. It was more our poor shower’s concern than mine.
“See something you like?” Soren stuffed his hands in his pockets and rocked his hips forward.
My head whipped back around, my face feeling hot. “See something I’d like to forget.”
A sharp exhale came from him. “Please. Like that part, any part, of me is forgettable.”
“And now I’m going to move on to trying to forget you just said that.” My arms crossed again, as was my typical reaction most of the time when Soren was around. Why did I like this guy? Why did I feel some pull toward him when I should have been backing away in revulsion? Okay, so maybe revulsion was a strong word, but exasperation wasn’t.
“Damn. I keep thinking I’m going to eventually reach some limit to staring at my name on your back, but it’s not happening.”
Groaning, I swept my braid over my shoulder. There. At least now half a letter would be blocked. “What is it with you men getting all hot and bothered when you see your name on a woman’s back? I mean, this isn’t lingerie with strategically cut holes or anything. It’s a baggy, frumpy jersey.”
“I guarantee it dates back to caveman times.” He cleared his throat like he was getting all factual on me. “Has seen a resurgence in current times.” When I sighed, he laughed. “I don’t know, Hayden. It’s just, like, marking a guy’s territory or something. I’m probably going to hell or about to get stoned by a mob of women, but there’s just something that gets to a guy when he sees his name on his woman.”
My heartbeat was so strong, I could feel it in my palms. “But I’m not your woman.” My head tipped back just enough I could make out his figure.
“You’re the closest thing to it.”
I am? How? Like in the romantic way or the non-romantic way?
“What makes me the closest thing to it?” I asked, confirming yet again why curiosity was going to be the death of me. If, at least, in my love life.
“You know, how we look after each other. The way we spend our free time together. We live together. Eat together. Get into arguments. Know all about our families, our pasts, our goals . . . you know, all of that stuff.”
Replaying in my mind what he’d just said, I realized how Soren and I were more than roommates. We were more than casual friends too. Good friends? I wasn’t sure that was right. Best friends? A person shouldn’t dream about sliding into bed naked with their best friend, right? Lovers? Definitely not.
I didn’t know what we were anymore. Didn’t have the faintest clue.
“Marking your territory, eh?” I slowly turned around, arms still crossed. “I didn’t peg you as the chauvinistic type. Caveman kind, sure, but—”
His head shook. “My name on a woman’s back isn’t just about her belonging to me.” His eyes found mine before I could look away. Now I was stuck. “It’s about me belonging to her too.”
Everything started to soften. My expression, my heart, my posture. How could he say all the wrong things, yet have it all exactly right when it counted? The name on my back wasn’t just about staking his claim; it was about taking himself out of the game.
“Say something. Say something dumb. Hurry.” My hand rolled, encouraging him. “Say something that will stop making me wonder if you really are this sweet, thoughtful person you’re coming across as right now.”
He gave me a funny look, giving me a chance to take it back. When I didn’t, he shrugged, a crooked smile working onto his mouth. “And maybe I might be thinking about how insanely hot the view of my name on my girl’s back would be while I’m fucking her from behind.”
My eyes widened as I felt my knees slacken. Hearing him say that should have earned him an eye roll and a groan like I’d hoped whatever “dumb” thing he said next would do. Instead, I was picturing the very act he’d described. I saw Soren naked, moving inside a woman from behind. One hand cradled around her waist, the other pulling her hair, a smirk on his face as he stared at his name on her back.