Chapter 8 - Westley
I was touched that she was so concerned for me that she would jump into the lake to save my life. A little insulted that she thought I couldn’t swim or hold my breath for longer than a minute, but that was another issue.
“So, you were concerned for my safety?” I teased, tightening my hold on her. Her hands were pressed against my shoulders, and her legs had wrapped around my middle. She was shivering against me, and I wanted to warm her. I probably wasn’t any warmer, though, since I’d been in the water longer.
I watched her face grow red. She wouldn’t be able to even deny that she was concerned. It was nice. After weeks of her practically ignoring me, she did care. There was hope that maybe we could make this work, and that was all I needed.
“I didn’t realize you were an idiot,” she grumbled. “You do realize you could get sick from being out here in the world like this? You’re not even close to your home, where you could warm up right after.”
“I have been doing this for years. My body is built for this, Ella.” I understood her concern, but there was no reason for it.
I’d been doing cold plunges since before I worked for Brandon.
I struggled getting up in the morning, and this was a way to wake myself up.
I did it with showers first, then moved to outdoor areas because it forced me to leave my house.
She raised an eyebrow at me, looking confused. “Is that a nickname you are trying out?”
I smirked, happy she caught onto it. “Maybe. Why do you not like it?”
“I don’t like it,” she said, scrunching up her nose. But I could see the spark in her eyes, the way she looked a little happy when she heard it.
I leaned closer, her hands pressing flat against me. “Yes, you do. Your mouth may say one thing, but your body says another.”
She chewed on her lip, her eyes looking over me for a moment before pulling back up to my eyes.
I felt her shift and realized that I was naked and she was soaking wet.
Her outfit was clinging to her, leaving little to the imagination.
She left her coat and her shoes by mine.
I could see how her shirt clung to her, her curves showing.
As her chest rose and fell, I glanced over her collarbone, taking in the way her shirt clung to her.
I froze when I realized I could see the outline of her bra. I could see the way the lace pressed against her t-shirt, and I swallowed, feeling my cock twitch.
I could feel her legs tightly wrapped around my waist. If she had been just a little lower, it would have been placed against another area—an area that was rock hard now.
Oh shit.
I held back a groan at the thought of her knowing. I didn’t want this close moment to be cut short because my body was reacting to her.
“Are you going to let me go?” she asked, tilting her head slightly as she asked.
“Do you want me to?” I teased back. “Because just a few moments ago, you didn’t seem to know how to swim.”
“I know how to swim, it’s just fucking freezing in this water, and I was trying to make sure you weren’t drowning.”
“But I wasn’t drowning, and now I’m the one holding you up.”
She swallowed. “Yeah, but neither of us is drowning now.”
“Then go ahead and get out.”
“You have to let go first,” she said, narrowing her eyes at me. I wasn’t holding onto her that tightly, so if she really wanted to get out of my grasp, she couldn’t. She wasn’t even pushing away. She was leaning closer.
I should let go. But I didn’t want to. I hadn’t seen this soft side of her in weeks. I missed it.
“Or maybe you just don’t want to let me go?” she asked, a smug smile on her face. “Maybe you’re the one having issues.”
I moved my hands, grabbed her hips, and pulled her tighter to me. Suddenly, her eyes widened as she was pressed right against my cock. I watched her throat bob as she glanced down. Our bodies were pressed together so she couldn’t see, but she could tell what was going on underneath.
“You tell me, Ella? Do I have an issue?”
Her head snapped back up, and she had a blush rolling over her face. Her lips fell open, and she didn’t seem to know what to say. She was caught off guard. It was a good look on her.
I lowered my hands, placing them on her ass. I moved her more slowly, rubbing her up and down against me. The friction was small, hardly a movement, but I saw the way her eyes flickered and her breath hitched.
I looked down at her lips that were a little blue, suddenly wanting to taste them. I wanted to know what her moans sounded like, what her body did when she was aching for something.
I wanted to know her body and memorize it like a map. I wanted to know where to mark the spots she liked and what to avoid. I wanted to know how flexible she was and just how much she could take.
Did she like it to be slow, or did she like it fast? What did her face look like when she was coming apart? What would she smell like after we did it, covered in sweat? Did she like rounds, or was she a one-and-done kind of gal? Just how far could I push her?
“Still want to leave?” I asked, watching the fluster cross her face. I could feel her fingers tighten on my shoulder, her hips moving with my hands. She wasn’t pushing away as I expected. She seemed interested.
I leaned closer, her breath brushing against my skin. I stared at her lip. Her lower lip pressed out a little more than her upper lip.
And the sound of footsteps made us both tense up. I looked down the pathway, and you could hear that people were out. Probably someone going for a walk or a hiker. Either way, we weren’t alone anymore.
When I pulled my eyes back to her, I could tell the moment was over. That relaxed expression she had been wearing was gone, and she was on alert. She pushed against me. “I should go and let you finish this.”
I let go, watching her hurry to the edge of the water. I took a deep breath, trying to get my cock to cool. She pulled herself out of the water, water dripping off of her and her clothes clinging to her tightly.
I could see the exact shape of her body. She practically looked naked with the outfit she was wearing and was soaking wet. My dick ached at the sight of her.
She grabbed her jacket, threw it on, and slipped into her shoes. She was still shivering, and I could see that her lips were a little blue from how cold she was.
“Gabriella,” I said her name softly, wanting to tell her to go warm up.
“I’m sorry for interrupting you,” she said quickly as she turned, hurrying away. She was running, and I didn’t even know what to say. What could I say?
Just a second ago, I was so close to losing my cool and doing things I shouldn’t have. I wanted to tug her pants off and slide my hand underneath. I wanted to feel how hot and wet she was, and watch her body react to what I could do.
All things I shouldn’t be thinking about. I couldn’t let my sexual thoughts get in the way of my work. We were trying to save the entire pack, and I was sitting in this water trying to get into her pants.
I got out of the water and pulled on my clothes. I drove home, not sure what I was going to say to her. But I knew we needed to talk. We couldn’t be more awkward than we already were.
I headed inside, not seeing her car parked in front of the house. The house was quiet, which told me she wasn’t home. I frowned, wondering where she would have even gone. I figured she’d gone home at least to change. She was shivering, so she obviously would go home to change and warm up.
I waited a few minutes, thinking she must be on her way, but after fifteen minutes had rolled by, I knew she wasn’t coming home.
And it pissed me off. She was avoiding me again, which was fine, but to avoid me when she was wearing sopping-wet clothes in the middle of winter was an entirely different issue.
I sat down on the couch, gripping the sides, frustrated. We couldn’t keep doing this. Knowing each other but acting like strangers. It wasn’t working, and it wasn’t healthy.
I watched the clock, watching time tick by. I was tempted to call her, but I doubted she would even answer. I was tempted to call Hazel, but she might not even know where Gabriella was.
A couple of hours later, I heard the front door open.
I was in the kitchen, pulling out supplies to make lunch.
I turned and spotted Gabriella walking down the hallway to her room.
She was wearing the same clothes she had on before, but they didn’t cling to her, which told me they were dry now. Anger hit me.
She had stayed in her soaking wet clothes until they dried because she didn’t want to come home.
I threw my handkerchief onto the counter and started down after her. “Gabriella.”
She turned as she got to her door. I watched her eyes look at me for a moment before looking away, embarrassed. “Yes?”
“Are you kidding me right now?”
She turned around now, looking at me, confused. “What?”
“This has to stop,” I said, pausing a few feet from her.
“What are you talking about?”
“You’re avoiding me!” I snapped back. “You can’t keep avoiding me. If this is going to work, we have to figure something out.”
“I’m not avoiding you.”
“Bullshit! You are! And to the point that you stayed outside in the middle of winter in soaking wet clothes rather than coming home and running into me to change.”
Her face went a deeper shade of red, and she chewed on her cheek. She wasn’t denying it.
I frowned. Had I damaged our friendship beyond repair? Had I screwed up so badly that we couldn’t fix this like I thought we could? “Do you hate me that much?”
Her eyes snapped up. “What?”
“If you hate me that much, you could have just said so. You don’t have to tiptoe around. You could have made yourself sick being out there in the cold like this. You were just yelling that at me, so why didn’t you take your own advice?”
I expected her to stay quiet, but instead, anger flashed across her face.
“You were the one who avoided me first, Westley. You stopped coming to join me at the library. No explanation, you just stopped. You avoided me at every opportunity. You don’t get to act surprised that I just matched your actions. ”
It was like she’d slapped me, and I felt my shoulders drop. I couldn’t argue with her on that. I had pulled away. I put the distance in the friendship first. But I never thought it would ruin it. I thought if I gave a little space, you would be okay.
I swallowed, not sure what to say now. “I… I…”
“Just give me space,” she said, softer now. “I understand that we have to get along because of this situation, but that doesn’t mean I’m not hurt still from what you did.”
I watched her open her door and step inside. She shut the door, and I swallowed, knowing that I was a large part of why our friendship was ruined. If I had handled things better, maybe we could have talked to each other like we used to. Maybe things wouldn’t be so messy.