Chapter 19
Chapter nineteen
Chesteria
“Steam, Sass, and the Last Straw”
The lights were dim, soft instrumental music played from a speaker, and a wall of foggy windows gave just enough view of the snow flurries outside.
I sank into the indoor hot tub, letting the warmth melt the tension from my shoulders.
It covered everything except my neck… and my thoughts.
My nerves had been tap dancing on edge since that trip began, and being trapped in a snow globe full of passive-aggressive energy wasn’t exactly the escape I had in mind when I said I needed a getaway.
I leaned my head back, letting the heat work its way into my bones. When the door creaked, I opened one eye.
Bryce strolled into the dimly lit room with a towel casually draped over his shoulder, moving with that confident, almost swaggering walk that said, Yeah, I know I’m fine.
His chest was bronzed and broad like God had a gym membership when he made him.
A vein on his bicep flexed as he rubbed the back of his neck, muscles shifting like poetry in motion.
Tattoos sprawled across his pecs and dragged down his ribs like secrets only I’d ever really read.
And that print? That thick thang was printing, and sitting in his shorts like it had something to say and no intention of whispering.
It wasn’t just there; it was watching me.
A flash of memory elbowed its way into my mind, rude and vivid. I thought about the last time I saw it unclothed and unbothered, all proud and warm between my thighs like it had always belonged there. I could almost feel that slow stretch again… that deep fill.
My thighs pressed together under the frothy bubbles of the hot tub on instinct, trying to trap the ache before it got louder. Heat rushed straight to my center, pulsing low and needy.
Yeah, the water got hotter… and it damn sure wasn’t just the jets.
“Didn’t mean to intrude… I just want to make sure you abide by your fifteen minutes,” Bryce said, his voice low and smooth as honey but edged with just the right hint of mischief.
I smirked, not even trying to hide it. “As long as you keep that moment quiet, we’re good. Although I feel like you need this soak just as much as I do.”
I scooted to one side—not out of invitation, but acknowledgment.
That’s all it was… right?
Bryce eased into the hot tub, and the water sloshed gently around him. He let his head fall back against the elevated ledge, eyes closing as if the day had been trying to jump him.
“Hell yeah… just what a nigga needs,” he muttered, letting out a low grunt that had no business sounding that good.
And suddenly, fifteen minutes felt dangerous as hell.
Steam curled between us, thick enough to blur the lines we kept toeing.
“Bryce, we really can’t watch TV,” I said, trying to focus on anything besides how good he looked leaning back like that. “I was planning on finishing this show today.”
Bryce cocked his head, smirking slightly. “So you mad at the weather and me?”
I rolled my eyes with a giggle I didn’t mean to give.
“Listen, if the power is still out mid-week and the tank looking good, we’ll talk about one movie night,” he winked, trying to reason.
I let out a soft sigh and shifted against the wall of the tub. “I almost agree with Isis when she said this is prison. But it could be worse, so I’m not going to complain. And I damn sure don’t want whatever chore you got lined up for complainers.”
Bryce sat up a little straighter. Something shifted in his expression.
“Your chore?” he repeated, low, slow, and teasing. “Oh, your chore wouldn’t be anything like hers.”
I glanced over at him, cautious.
“Nah, they’d be scrubbing dishes or shoveling snow,” he went on, voice low and teasing. “Maybe out there untangling’ extension cords in the dark or alphabetizing’ canned goods by expiration date. “But you?”
Bryce paused. His eyes met mine with that look that used to unravel me without even trying.
“You’d get something different… something private… one-on-one.”
His words dangled there like bait… and I hated how much of me wanted to bite.
I gave him a sidelong glance. “You always did talk in circles when you were trying to be slick.”
He chuckled, sexily. “Ain’t nothing slick about telling the truth.”
I wanted nothing more than to slide right over, climb into his lap, and ride that truth into the steam-filled night. But we couldn’t go there… not yet… not until we had that conversation; the well-overdue one.
“Bryce—” I started, voice barely above the bubbles. But before I could get another syllable out, the door swung open with a force that felt like karma had crusty boots and no boundaries.
“Oh my God, it is hot in here!” Isis exclaimed, stepping in like the damn main attraction. Her bikini looked two sizes too small, like it had hopes and dreams it could never fulfill. I could’ve sworn one of her breasts blinked twice for help.
Bryce looked away out of respect—I didn’t.
Somebody had to stay aware in case a strap gave up.
I sipped my wine slowly, casting a side-eyed glance her way.
“Good… that means you won’t stay long,” I muttered, thinking it was low enough to slip past her ears.
Apparently not… not that I really gave a damn.
Isis sniggered. “Oh, I’m sure you’d love that,” she said, voice sugary with a dash of spite. “But I just couldn’t leave y’all looking all cozy without me.”
So much for my alone time—well, I wouldn’t have minded if it was just me and Bryce.
Isis dipped one toe into the hot tub, then immediately snatched it back like the water had whispered, “Welcome to Hell”. That girl’s life seemed to flash before her eyes, but unfortunately, the lesson didn’t stick.
With a deep breath and a dramatic flip of her hair, she stepped over the edge with forced grace and shoved more cleavage than the Lord ever allotted into the bubbling water. The hot tub groaned like it was tired of her drama, too. If it could roll its eyes, I’m sure it would've.
Before I could clap back, Adrian’s voice rang out, dragging my mood by the ankle.
“I guess this where the party at?!”
I rolled my eyes internally.
Not you too!
Adrian stepped into the room, already cracking open a beer. With his Bluetooth speaker in one hand, and a sense of disrespect in the other, he took a seat in a nearby chair, legs splayed wide and music low, as if we were all about to launch into a freestyle session amidst the thick steam.
Adrian clocked Isis immediately. “Nah, now. Black Ariel in the house,” he joked. “Where Flounder at?”
Isis flipped her wet hair like she was in a shampoo commercial. “He drowned.”
Adrian shook his head. “Damn. R.I.P.”
Isis’s body shifted closer to Bryce like she was trying to heat him up in the name of science. She rested her arms along the tub’s edge, and her lips puckered into something that was supposed to be seductive but looked more like she sucked on a lemon.
“Oh, Bryce, I forgot to show you our matching sweaters!”
Bryce stiffened just slightly; a subtle shift that didn’t go unnoticed.
My jaw didn’t drop, and my eyebrows didn’t rise, but Bryce caught the twitch at the corner of my lip—an all-too-revealing sign of my surprise.
“Matching sweaters? Cute.” My voice carried a playful lilt, masking my true amusement.
Isis beamed. “Yup. Reindeer with little bells! Mine says ‘Nice-ish.’ His says ‘Naughty but Worth It.” She giggled.
Bryce locked eyes with me across the bubbles. His expression gave a silent message that clearly communicated: You know damn well I ain’t doing that corny shit… not with her, at least.
He straightened a little. “Isis, why the fuck would you bring that when I clearly told you I wasn’t wearing it?” His voice was steady yet edged with annoyance.
I covered my mouth to stifle the laugh, but it was an epic fail.
Isis tried to brush it off with a laugh of her own, though the attempt felt forced and awkward.
Bryce exhaled sharply. “Isis, how many times do I have to tell you that we are not a couple… never have been… never will be. I ain’t no damn prop in whatever fantasy script you got running in yo’ head.
Stop acting like we been reading from the same page, ‘cause we haven’t.
Ain’t nothing mutual over here. You auditioned for love, but I ain’t even casting.
Let’s kill the fantasy now before you start mistaking delusion for direction. ”
Looks like she already did that, I thought, sinking a little deeper into the water.
Isis’s grin cracked completely. It was replaced by the frown of a woman realizing her movie role got cut in the first act.
I couldn’t help myself; a sharp, savage laugh escaped me.
“I’m cooked,” I declared a few minutes later, standing, as the steam from the hot tub clung to my skin like a soothing, warm blanket. “Y’all enjoy your holiday movie moment.”
Bryce leaned forward slightly, eyes trailing the curves of my body without even pretending to be discreet. “You good?”
“Good enough to know when to leave the pot before it boils.”
I glanced at Isis, and for a split second, she looked like she finally understood this wasn’t her movie… I was just letting her borrow a scene.
I purposely swayed my hips in my bikini as I moved to retrieve my robe, each step slow and rhythmic, as if the beat had dropped just for me.
I knew Bryce was looking, because no matter what we had lost, some things still responded to the memory of my body.
I wanted Isis to watch too, so she could choke on the truth that confidence and a natural body couldn’t be copied.
Adrian tried to recover the mood. “Chess, come on! Don’t go! The party just getting started! I was gonna do impressions next. You wanna hear my Morgan Freeman?”
I put on my robe. “Do it while narrating your way back to your room.”
Isis scoffed. “So dramatic. Let her go. We don’t need nobody sitting here mad and moist. Girl, take your robe and your attitude and exit stage left.”
Isis popped a strawberry in her mouth like she hadn’t just lit the wrong fuse.