“Shampoo.” He pointed at the bottle before reaching around me to grab it.
His forearm grazed my shoulder, and from my reaction, I’d have thought he’d just slid his hand inside my swimsuit bottoms. Jolting, I moved aside so he could stand under the showerhead. However, since the shower was maybe double the size of my high school locker, I had to smash against him as we switched positions. My hands found themselves dropping to his chest for support so I didn’t tumble out. His found theirs pinned around my hips.
As soon as we were switched, his hands let me go. Mine lingered a moment longer before falling away. He got straight to wetting his hair, shampooing it right after. His eyes didn’t travel my way the whole time. It was like he was taking a shower by himself for all the attention he gave me.
When he reached for the soap, my eyes might have drifted to his swim trunks. Did the man own anything that didn’t like to hang low off of his hips? My god, my pulse felt like it was visible in my neck from the way my heart was firing. And what evil plot had God been aspiring to when he created a man with those sloped muscles and that trail of hair all leading to one very “manly” part?
It was like having a flashing neon sign to advertise the goods.
When my eyes slid a little lower, I didn’t find any of the “goods” straining through his shorts. No bulge. No wood. No signs of arousal.
Crap. Maybe this really was just about a shower.
“Would you mind getting my back?” He shook the water out of his hair, opening his eyes as he held out the bar of soap.
“What do you do when you take a shower by yourself?”
He lifted my hand, dropping the bar of soap in it. “I call the shower fairy.”
Exhaling, I rubbed the soap around in my hands to form a lather before setting it down and lowering my hands to Soren’s back. Just skin, muscle, and bone. Human anatomy. Perfectly natural. My mind chanted those reminders over and over as I washed his shoulders and back. Unfortunately, my body felt differently.
That familiar ache between my legs spurred to life. The desire to have him shove me up against another wall was overwhelming. My body was charging with energy, my mind dizzy with need.
I wasn’t sure how my hands wound up around in front of him, slowly traveling down the planes of his stomach until my thumbs where just slipping inside of his shorts. I wasn’t sure what would have happened if he didn’t quake, a ragged groan vibrating in his chest.
Instantly, my hands left him, my body backing into the wall behind me. He stayed angled toward the shower for a moment, another shudder spilling down his back, before he turned around.
The look on his face wasn’t the one I was expecting. He was gloating. Like he’d just won some game I hadn’t known we were playing.
My blood rolled to a boil. “I know what you’re doing.” My eyes narrowed more when his tipped smile became even more crooked.
“Trying to get clean?” His gaze ran down me, like he could see every nerve still firing in my body.
“You’re trying to catch me in a weak moment.” I pushed off of the wall, trying to prove to him his proximity to me had nothing to do with anything. Of course, that was a total lie. “You’re trying to seduce me with your body, but I already told you. It’s going to take a lot more than that to break me.”
Giving himself one last rinse, he pulled the curtain open to exit. “Counting on it.”
I’d booked the client. The colossal one. The foreign one everyone in the Free World had heard of. The same client whose brand everyone wanted to have hanging off their shoulder or slung around their feet, and the very one whose success had come from a select few being able to afford it.
Ellis had sent me an entire case of champagne to celebrate, which seemed odd since I was still two years below the legal drinking limit, but it had been a thoughtful gesture. I was sure Soren would have plenty of the opposing opinion to say.
The thrill of it was still fresh and hadn’t quite settled in. I wanted to celebrate—in a way that didn’t involve marinating my liver in bottles of champagne. Jane and Ariel had offered to take me out dancing, but that wasn’t really celebrating to me. It was just a workout that took place outside of the gym. Complete with meatheads trying to get all up in a girl’s business when they weren’t selling anything to begin with.
I wanted a celebration. The kind that involved going out and eating a good meal, capped with the best kind of dessert, followed by wandering around the city and taking in the sights late at night. Something more serene than the newest, chicest club in Manhattan.
That was what I was daydreaming about when I heard the click of the lock turning over before the door swung open. Soren’s heavy, familiar footsteps echoed inside. He’d just gotten off work and would probably be up late studying, like he had all week. He had midterms coming up and was stressing with all of the time practice and work were taking up.
“Hungry?” I asked as he walked by the kitchen, where I was standing with the fridge door open, looking for something “celebratory.”
His head shook as he dropped his bags in the hall. He was back to leaving his stuff scattered around wherever it landed.
“Long day?” I closed the fridge and turned into the hallway.
He was already opening up his books and pulling out a pencil. His answer came in the form of another head movement.
“I was just heading to bed, so . . .” I started for my partition, hating how awkward things were between us now.
After a few more attempts at seducing me—compliments of his hard, very seduction-invoking body—Soren had backed off. It had only been the past few days, but I couldn’t figure out why he’d come on so hard and strong only to bow out so suddenly.
Had he finally realized I was a lost cause?
Had he gotten bored?
Had he accepted I really wasn’t worth all of the effort?
Had I imagined the whole thing?
Stupid questions. They’d riddled me into a state of paranoia lately.
“Hey, my mom asked about you coming to dinner again this Thursday.” Soren sounded as tired as he looked as he pulled a bunch of crap from his pockets, crumbling up most of it and aiming it at the wastebasket. Most of it landed outside of it though.
“Soren, I don’t know. I don’t think it’s a good idea.” I headed toward the garbage can.
“Come on. She’s been asking every week since you moved in.” He lobbed one last crumpled wad toward the garbage. Missed that one too. Good thing he played baseball. “Besides, she doesn’t know anything about the stuff that’s gone down between us. She just thinks we’re roommates and you’re a long ways from home.”
“The stuff?” I echoed.