Chapter 11
Eleven
Max
I’m trying really hard not to look at Flynn’s smooth, muscled arms. The large cut-outs in his t-shirt reveal peeks of his equally toned torso as we walk down the hall, and hell, maybe I should’ve suggested the library instead of the pool.
He’s not interested in me like that. Never was. I can still hear Milo’s voice in my ear as he told me what Flynn said that night. I was a mistake . The biggest of his life.
I can’t forget that while we spend time together this week.
I keep my eyes to myself as we head down the stairs, and when we get out to the pool area, I’m excited to find four of the other writers milling around. Not only will their presence give Flynn and me a chance to gather some intel, it means I won’t be alone with him. Because if no one else was out here, I’d have nothing to focus on but him.
And that would be dangerous.
We find two lounge chairs under a wide umbrella and claim them for ourselves. Perching on the edge of mine, I pull off my hat and toss it aside before pulling out a tube of sunscreen and squirting some into my palm. I rub my hands together before massaging the cream into my arms, chest, and stomach. Then I untie my sarong and work on coating my legs.
I glance over at Flynn to offer him the tube. His face is already red. How is that? We’re in the shade, and it’s not that hot out here yet.
He takes the sunscreen from me without a word, then pulls his shirt off in that one-handed way guys do. I turn my face toward the pool as he lotions up, thankful for the dark sunglasses perched on my face when my eyes flick toward Flynn more than once.
Good God, he’s really filled out in all the best ways since college.
“I’ll do your back if you do mine,” he says, and I suck down a bit of saliva as I inhale sharply.
Coughing, I stare at him incredulously. He wants me to put my hands on his bare skin?
“Never mind,” he starts, and I shake my head before holding out a hand for the tube.
I can do this. Nothing sexual about it. At all. Just two friends having each other’s backs. Literally.
Flynn smiles as he hands me the tube, and I stand and move to sit behind him on his chair. Squirting some lotion into my hand, I drop the tube and rub my palms together. Once they’re both coated, I reach for Flynn’s back, pausing an inch away to take a deep, calming breath.
His back is tense when I finally touch him, smearing the white goop from his shoulders down to his waistband before moving back up to rub it into his skin. My heartrate kicks up as my fingertips caress the toned muscles of his back while my brain imagines touching him like this under much different circumstances.
“Ok, I’m done,” I croak out once I’ve covered every inch of his skin.
“Thanks,” he replies, and I swear there’s a purr in his voice.
Turning quickly to give him my back, I’m stiff as a board as I wait for him to return the favor. If touching him made me feel a certain way, how is having him touch me going to make me react?
I don’t have to wonder for very long. Breath hisses through my teeth when Flynn’s warm palms press against my shoulders. His touch is gentle, yet firm as he massages the lotion in, making his way slowly downward.
Like he’s taking his time. Like he’s enjoying touching me and doesn’t want it to end.
I grit my teeth and force the thought from my mind. I cannot read too much into this. I need to be sensible in my dealings with Flynn.
When he reaches my lower back, he rubs the lotion in before gliding his palms back up. I feel his fingertips slip beneath the string of my bikini top, and I leap to my feet in a panic .
“That’s good. Thank you,” I mutter, then grab the tube and toss it back in my bag without looking at him.
Spreading out my towel on my own chair, I adjust the top half so I can sit up and survey the whole pool area before stretching out. I mentally order my heart and my lungs to calm the hell down as I try to relax, but they only work harder when Flynn stands and drags his own chair closer to mine, leaving only a few inches between them.
Adjusting the back to match mine, he sits and leans in my direction, murmuring, “So we can speak quietly without anyone else hearing.”
I nod in response, unable to find my tongue. Of course, he only slid closer to help our cause. It had nothing to do with wanting to be near me.
Get it together, Max.
Nothing, and I mean nothing , is going to happen between us. It won’t. It can’t.
And I can’t forget that. Not even for a second.