Chapter 18 #2
I groan at the prospect of undressing in front of one another, especially since the cold will no doubt highlight certain body parts for her and cause others to shrivel for me.
She rolls her eyes and dances in place to stay warm. “You can be a gentleman and st-strip down f-first, then come back with a dry t-t-towel for me.”
“F-fine. Just, turn around for a second, p-please.”
“What f-f-for? I’ve s-seen it all already,” she protests with a raised eyebrow.
I glare as I unzip my jacket and remove the first layer. It hits the wooden porch with a thud. “Why do you wanna s-see it again?”
“Be-be-cause I’m freezing,” she retorts, as if the answer should be obvious.
I attempt to shrug as I unbutton my shirt, but the uncontrollable shivering makes both damn near impossible. “S-so am I.”
She growls and steps forward to help me with the buttons. “Don’t act like you d-don’t know what I m-meant.”
My stomach dips when the realization hits me, then it flips again when she opens my shirt and presses her cheek to my chest. Her popsicle hands slide around my midsection, and I flinch and hiss while she steals my last dregs of body heat.
It doesn’t stop the corner of my mouth from turning up, though, especially once she lets out a contented sigh.
“Is that really all it takes to get you all hot and b-bothered?” I ask, my heart rate and my core body temperature both spiking at the contact.
“Shut up,” she breathes, her eyelids fluttering when she flips to the other cheek.
I chuckle under my breath and move to unbutton my slacks, no longer having to worry about the cold affecting me in a less-than-flattering manner.
Claire steps back for me to toe off the boots I also swiped from Landry’s closet, but she keeps her hands on my torso as I peel my wet pants from my legs.
“You’re gonna have to let me go now,” I tell her with a smile once I’m down to my underwear.
“Okay, but hurry up. And just drop a towel at the door. I don’t need you watching me undress,” she orders.
My smile fades. “Well, that’s not fair.”
“Neither is all this,” she grumbles, gesturing over my midsection before she unhooks the shoulder straps of her chest waders.
“You say that like you’re not walking around in the sexiest body I’ve ever seen,” I mutter, secretly relieved I’m not getting the chance to see every tempting inch of her again. Ignoring her scoff, I dart into the house to grab a couple of clean towels from the dryer.
Claire snatches up my offering once I crack open the door and stick out my hand. She dances her way inside a few seconds later, tucking the tail end of the towel under her armpit.
I furrow my brow as I take in her bare ankles. “Um, where are your pants?”
“I was literally walking into the shower when you texted, so I barely had time to throw on a shirt and a pair of drawers before grabbing my waders on the way out the door,” she replies defensively.
I shake my head. “You would walk around in chest waders and lingerie.”
I wait for her spicy comeback while I adjust the towel around my waist, but she looks away and crosses her arms over her middle instead. “All right, grab your things so we can get out of here.”
“Oh, no, I can’t,” I begin. “I mean, thank you, but I’ll be fine.”
“And how do you expect to clean yourself up without any water?”
I curse under my breath. She’s right. I can’t stay here tonight unless I want to show up to work in the morning with mud-crusted hair. I just hate that I keep inconveniencing her so much.
I’m also not fond of the idea of anyone finding out about our sleepovers and telling my sister, who would then tell my entire family, who would want to know the real story of how and when Claire and I first met.
On the other hand, I can’t help wondering what kind of underwear she deemed appropriate on her way out earlier.
Did she choose something she wanted me to see?
And does that mean she was just standing out in the cold in nothing but her bra and panties a second ago while she waited for me to return with a towel?
Better yet, was she secretly hoping I’d offer to warm her up myself?
I blow out a loud exhale in an attempt to clear my head. I’ve really got to get a handle on these thoughts, especially if my chance run-ins with Claire are going to become a regular thing.
“You, uh, really wouldn’t mind?” I ask carefully.
“I mean, kind of. But I can’t just leave you like this, either,” she says, rolling her eyes.
“Like what? Cold, wet, naked, and lonely?” I offer, stifling a smile. “Some booty call you turned out to be.”
I cringe when I hear myself. I only meant to lighten the mood, but I’m not doing anyone any favors by being overly suggestive like this. And I certainly shouldn’t be leading her on or even implying I condone that kind of behavior for either of us.
Claire’s eyes widen for a second before she collects herself, and I expect her to toss her head back and laugh any second. Instead, she looks away again and pulls the towel in tighter.
“You know, most guys wait until after we hook up to cue the self-loathing bit. It admittedly ruins the mood when you front load this much disgust at being attracted to me,” she explains sarcastically.
My stomach lurches again, but not in a good way this time.
“Geez, Rowan. Stop looking at me like that. I can take a joke,” she says after watching me struggle and fail to find my voice.
I clear my throat. “I’m sorry.”
But that’s all I can say, because she’s not mistaken about the way I’ve been acting in front of her, even if she’s made the wrong assumptions about why I’m having such a hard time dealing with my attraction.
She turns away, but I swear I hear her sniffling. “I’m going to crank up the heater in my car while you get your shit together,” she chokes out.
“No, you’re going to find yourself something to wear from my sister’s room. I’ll get the heater,” I tell her, pushing my way through the front door before she can object.