I strip, tossing my clothes in the general direction of the hamper and getting under the hot spray, hoping it will help clear my mind. The best thing to do right now is to go out there and explain to him we can’t go down this road again. He has to know that. How can he even want me after I left him? Especially not after what I told him.
It was just the circumstance, I decide. The emotional rollercoaster of the past few days caught up with him and he got carried away in the moment. Even I have to admit it’s hard not to fall in old patterns, being back here in my childhood room when things were so much easier and happier.
I rinse out the shampoo, slather on conditioner and feel like a new person. I’ll get out of the shower, thank him for being here for me when I needed him, and we’ll both get on with our lives. Sure, we’ll see each other around town, in one the size of Nassau that’s inevitable, but we can be grown up about it.
As I step out and wrap my head in a towel, I push the thoughts of what it would be like to watch him get married and have a family out of my mind. I’ll deal with that when it happens, even if I’d rather walk through glass barefoot.
I dry off and get dressed in a pair of shorts and a matching tank-top. They were cute on the rack, but I stare at them in horror in the fogged reflection in the mirror.
In my haste to get away from Jack, I couldn’t have picked a more revealing outfit. The shorts barely cover my ass and I forgot a bra, or even a camisole, to put under the tank-top. If I walk out there it’s going to be like putting on an advertisement.
I bang my head softly against the mirror.
“Sofie?” he calls from the other side of the door. “You okay?”
My head shoots up and knocks against the overhead shelf. “Shit,” I whimper, cradling my head in my hands. “Yeah, I’m fine,” I say to Jack. “You can let yourself out,” I add for good measure.
“Not gonna do that,” he replies.
More concerned about his words and my head than my clothes, I open the door. Steam billows out behind me as I step through. “What do you mean you’re not gonna do that?” I take a cautious step forward, still holding the towel on my head and nursing the sore spot.
My vision clears and I take in the sight of him sprawled over my bed. If the knot on my head wasn’t already making the world spin on it’s axis, having him in my bed would have.
He traded his jeans and a T-shirt for basketball shorts and no shirt, looking like every teenage fantasy I’ve ever had of him. Of course, back then he hadn’t been quite so big and ripped. The combination of military training and constant working out at the gym had been very, very kind.
I grip the door jam for support and forget what I’m supposed to be upset about. His abs shift as he crunches to tuck his legs under the blankets and I count a twelve pack. The sheets come to rest around his hips and he looks very nearly naked. In my bed.
Sweet baby Jesus.
“I mean,” he says and I drag my eyes from his stomach to his well-defined chest, to his unsmiling mouth, “I want to stay here, with you.”
Swallowing thickly, I towel off my hair to give my hands something to do because otherwise they’d be trembling. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“I think it’s the best idea I’ve had in years.”
“What about Donnie and Rafe?”
“Pretty sure they got the idea when I had my mouth on you, babe,” he says.
“You don’t think that’s going to be confusing for them? They’ve been through enough as it is.” I grab lotion from my toiletry bag and start slathering it on. I keep my eyes on my hands as I sit on the side of the bed instead of looking at him.
“Think they got used to me being here when I stayed after your mom died. And when I helped you guys when you were sick.”
Lotion finished, I have no other excuses not to look at him, so I start to lift the blankets up to slide in and then slide back out again. “I’m going to go get some water,” I say.
“Sofie,” he says and I stop in my tracks. “C’mere.”
“I don’t know if I can do this.” I keep my eyes on the door as the words spill out of my mouth in a rush. “I’m not the same person I was when I left. I know you aren’t either. I can’t stand the thought of losing you again when things are just starting to go back to normal.” I take a shuddering breath. “You’re were my best friend, Jack.”
“You were mine,” he says. “Get back in bed.”
I obey, finally looking at him as I get under the covers and curl up on my side next to him. He’s got one arm under his head now, the other resting lightly on his abdomen. I inhale deeply, which only serves to fill my senses with his scent, citrus and bay and a little bit of male.
“I used to have a shirt of yours that I’d sleep in when I was away at college that first year,” I say. “I wore that damn thing nearly every night. I think my roommate thought I was a nut job or poor because I refused to wear anything else.”
His free hand comes up to push my hair back. He doesn’t say anything, but the touch is more than enough.