Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“A professional,” he hums like he’s heard it a million times before. Okay, fine, he has. I need to nix that phrase from my vocabulary. He has clearly gotten the message. “I’m giving you a hard time, Autumn. Now about this shower . . .”
Pressing my hand to the door, I push it open a little more, but don’t dare peek in. “You should be in a swimsuit or at least underwear.”
“How was I supposed to know that?” His deep voice echoes off the tiles of the shower stall, making it so I can hear him just fine in the bedroom.
“Oh man.” He’s all man, alright. “I’m sorry. You wouldn’t have because you didn’t want my help, but I’m here now.” I take the opportunity to pull my hair into a ponytail.
With us still standing in opposite rooms, he says, “I didn’t say that to make you feel bad.”
“It’s okay. I do it to myself. Hey, where can I find your swim trunks?”
“Bottom drawer, left-hand side in the closet.”
Quick to cross the room before the hot water runs out, I stop abruptly as soon as I walk into the closet. I had a small closet no bigger than a Barbie Dreamhouse for most of my life. I only moved into Summer’s old room in the past two years, which is a bit larger. And I thought I’d hit the jackpot with the bigger closet. But this? I swoon. This huge walk-in is pure goals. One day, when I have my own place, I’m going to have a fancy closet just like this.
Kneeling, I open the bottom left drawer and pause to stare. He has an immense number of swim shorts, and they’re so neatly tucked in the drawer that I almost feel bad for disturbing the order. I grab a black pair of trunks from the top and hurry back to the bathroom. With my back to the door, I push it open and scoot in, holding the trunks like a surrender flag so he can reach them. “Here.”
I wait after they’re snatched from my fingers, looking around and landing on the mirrors ahead of me. My lips part, guilt riddling my jagged breathing when I catch his reflection in a clearing on the glass. The steam threatens, but as it closes in on it, I’m left with a full view of the man.
Should I have looked again? No. Do I regret it? No. I mean, look at him. Wonders of the world are meant to be admired. It’s actually ridiculous that a man existing in this little town of ours can be that attractive, funny, charming, ugh. He’s all the things. How is that fair?
As if winning all the titles in high school from prom king to athlete of the year wasn’t enough. Getting a full-ride scholarship to college and winning some fancy architecture award everyone in town was praising him for wasn’t enough. Nope, he still chooses to put his life on the line to help others and volunteers regularly in the community. And on top of all that, he gets blessed looking like, well, looking like him, too? Cheez-Its on a cracker.
I thought it was cruel to have the guy who hurt my younger self not even remember me. But it’s a real bite in the ass that he turned out looking like a GQ model. Does his fortune have no bounds, for Pete’s sake?
Salt in the wound.
“All ready for you,” he says, propping open the shower door in a billowing steam cloud of an invitation.
Despite my better judgment, I look his way. Good gracious . . . Is he serious with this? He’s been shirtless all day today, just like he was yesterday. Even at the hospital, he managed to hang around in the gown. But adding water, rolling over those ab muscles, gives me a whole new perspective on the four, six, eight situation he has going on in his midsection. Is he even human at this point?
Sucking in a breath, I pull the door wide open. “Whoa. It’s huge.”
“I’m a big guy.”
“That you are, but I’m referring to the shower,” I reply, desperate to break this spell he’s put on me and clear my throat. “Okay.” I clasp my hands together, ready to dig into my duties. “How far did you get?”
“Not as far as I would have liked. I think we should bandage my shoulder when I’m dried off.” He steps back under the water, leaving a lot of room in this big area for another person. By design? Probably.
“What happened?”
“It’s just, yeah, I feel more comfortable with it on.”
I start reaching across for the shampoo but stop when my sleeve gets wet. “Understandable, but it’s good you tried. Better that you know your limits. Pushing it doesn’t win prizes. It only sets you back.” I make the hard decision—that’s not really hard at all if we’re comparing it to his abs—to step in with him. “I’m just going to come in here with you if you don’t mind? I think it will be less of a mess that way.”