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My hands tightened briefly around the curve of her waist. “I heard something,” I whispered back. “Are you okay?”
Being devoid of the sense of sight, everything else was heightened, and I was strangely glad I couldn’t see her face. Because if I could see hers, then she could see mine. Without the benefit of a mirror to show my reflection, I could feel the deep furrow of my brow as my fingers cataloged the way her waist flared out to her hips. My breath came in short pants when she didn’t answer right away. A sharp inhale hung between us, and the press of her knuckles were hard against my chest where she clutched that towel to her lush, damp skin.
Her rib cage expanded on another breath before she answered. “I tripped over the edge of the tub. It was very graceful.”
“I bet.”
Harlow cleared her throat and gently extricated herself from my grasp, and I sucked in a lungful of air and thought about jolly old England because fucking hell, I was half hard from holding my naked best friend in a dark hallway.
“I’m, uh, a little too … not clothed right now,” she said with an embarrassed laugh. “And I think maybe I should remedy that before the lights come back on?”
Even though I didn’t answer—couldn’t answer—she wisely took my silence as tacit agreement.
My feet wouldn’t move, my hands curled into those fists again as she brushed past me down the hallway, and I watched the shadow of her move toward her bedroom door. Through the window in her bedroom, enough weak light came through that I saw her outline.
The lights flipped back on, and the harsh brightness of it had me wincing slightly. Harlow was half visible behind her door, and her wide eyes were locked on mine, her hand white-knuckled on the black towel wrapped around her chest.
There was so much skin on display, long legs and shoulders and arms and even though I would not look, in my peripheral vision, I saw the rise and fall of cleavage that I’d definitely never seen.
What I saw in her face had my muscles tight, my pulse thundering. I kept my eyes locked on hers, because nothing good came from looking lower. Looking at all was going to cause nothing but trouble.
It was only a matter of time, Jax had said. What a horrible fucking moment to remember what that asshole said. With my own white-knuckled grip, I tore my gaze from hers and rubbed the back of my neck. “I’ll get the generator moved out of the barn, just in case.”
As I started to turn away, she said my name. I paused, looking over my shoulder.
“Don’t do any extra work on my account. I’m going to meet Poppy and Ivy for drinks, actually. So … I’ll be gone the next couple of hours.”
“Good,” I said, my voice so fucking rough it sounded like I’d chewed on sandpaper. I cleared my throat and nodded. “That’s good. My brother, uh, invited me out too. Maybe I’ll take him up on it.”
“Look at us being social,” she said lightly.
I wasn’t sure what I said in response, if I smiled, or grunted, or anything. All I knew was that if I stayed in that house for another minute longer, I’d lose my mind. And my mind was the one thing I needed to be in control of right now. Three minutes later, I pushed through the front door and let the roar of the truck engine drown out everything in my brain.
“What changed your mind about coming out?” Cameron asked, talking loudly enough over the music that I could hear him. “It’s because Harlow was going to be gone, isn’t it?”
After giving him a long look, I shook my head. “Just didn’t feel like sitting home.”
He cocked an eyebrow but miraculously accepted my answer. Jax’s gaze flitted over the faces at the bar on Main Street, and I saw him lift his bottle in greeting at someone I didn’t recognize. She had long blond hair and bright red lips.
“Friend of yours?” I asked. “You’ve got enough of them.”
He exhaled a quiet laugh. “I don’t sleep with locals. You know that.”
“A local? I don’t recognize her.”
Cameron glanced over his shoulder and then laughed. “You don’t? Whatever you do, don’t tell her that.”
My eyes narrowed on the blond again. “Should I recognize her?”
“Constance McKenzie,” Jax said.
I choked a little on my beer, giving her another once-over. “It is not.”
“You slept with her in high school, right?” Cameron asked. Then he widened his eyes. “Like, your first time. You borrowed Sheila’s fake candles and got in so much trouble when you left them in the bed of your truck and it rained, and all the batteries corroded.”
“Thanks for bringing that up,” I said between gritted teeth.
They both laughed.
