“Hold on,” I tell him when we enter the bathroom.
Because it’s my dad’s guesthouse, the shower stall is massive, with white marble slab tiles and a glass partition wall to keep the water from splashing everywhere. I turn the shower on full heat. “Get in. I can’t talk to you when I know you’re half frozen.”
I cross my arms over my chest and wait, not looking at him. Naked Gray is not something I can handle without dissolving on the spot. But I feel him brush past me, muttering under his breath about stubborn women.
“I’m in.” His deep voice echoes throughout the room as steam begins to rise. “You happy now? Can we talk?”
“So talk.”
He doesn’t answer. The steady beat of the shower fills the silence. And the air grows humid. My heart thuds against my ribs.
“Ivy. Look at me.”
“Um. You’re naked.” The muscles along my back tense up with the urge to turn and stare.
“You just saw me naked.” There’s a smile in his voice.
“Yeah, I think we need to have that boundaries talk again.”
A drop of water hits my neck, and it sends a bolt of feeling to my toes. His voice is close now, and I know he’s leaning past the glass. “Ivy Mac, I want you to see me. Nothing between us. Please, honey. Look at me.”
The request wraps around my heart, has me turning. And, holy hell. My mouth goes dry, and I have to brace myself. Standing half behind the water-streaked glass, nothing is hidden. Wet is a good look for Gray. Droplets of water bead silver on golden skin, trickle in paths over valleys and hills of muscle.
My fingers twitch to slide along that slick skin, to run along his dripping hair, now bronze with wet. But it’s the way he’s looking at me, his blue eyes pleading to let me in, that has tenderness squeezing my chest.
Smooth glass meets my palm. Gray’s hand lifts, presses against the other side, his fingers so much longer than mine. “Ivy, I kissed you and—”
“You told me it didn’t matter. You acted as though it was all just a spur-of-the-moment thing, a fucking impulse, and I just happened to be convenient.” The painful truth pours out. It hurts to hear it again, like a burn that’s been prodded.
Gray grimaces as if it hurts him too. “I lied.”
It punches the breath out of me. “Lied?”
The corners of his eyes crinkle in pained expression. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m a dumbass. Okay?” Gray takes a breath and leans his head against the edge of the shower glass. “I thought if I told you it wasn’t a big deal you wouldn’t freak out, and it was the worst thing I could have said.”
“Yeah, it was.”
With a solemn expression, Gray cups his big hand around the base of my neck, a gentle hold that grounds me, his skin warm and wet. “Ivy, I can’t lie to you anymore. Nothing about you is convenient. And you are the only one who has ever mattered. I look at you and I want to kiss you. Touch you.” His lids lower, his gaze hot and needy on my mouth. “I want to learn your body, find all those secret places that make you go crazy.” A puff of air leaves my lips, and he gives me a half-pained smile. “God, I want those things, honey. I want them so badly—”
“Gray—”
“No. Let me finish.” He takes a breath, his shoulders tensing. His thumb ghosts over my chin. “I don’t want to this be some lame friends-with-benefits thing. I want you to be mine. My girl. I want to be your guy. The thought of you with someone else… Shit. It rips my heart out.”
“Gray.”
He closes his eyes, giving his head a sharp shake. “I keep seeing that picture of you with that guy. It guts me, Ivy.”
“What picture? What guy?” Of all the things to focus on. But my thinking has gone haywire. And he isn’t making any sense.