Haven’s been through a lot over the last couple days. I should probably apologize and throw on a shirt, but I’m having too much fun with this. Instead, I say, “Thanks, glad I have your permission,” and then plop down on the edge of my bed.
I was going to shower off, but it can wait. Clearly, my bare chest affects her, and I want to see to what extent.
She gapes, her mouth opening and closing a couple of times as she grasps for words. I stare back at her blankly, trying to convey complete innocence, but a smile tugs the corners of my mouth.
Seeing the twitch, Haven’s eyes narrow, and a touch of calculation enters her gaze.
I’m expecting her to let loose on me, anticipating it in fact, because verbally sparring with her is turning out to be rather entertaining, but instead she turns on a heel and walks away. A trickle of disappointment runs through me as she digs through her duffel and pulls something out without a word before marching to the bathroom and shutting the door behind her.
I suppose it’s good at least one of us is being mature.
Standing, I go over to my bag, rifling through it for clean clothes to change into after my shower. As I gather my things, my mind drifts through a vague plan for the next day. For now, we need to lay low. I have to keep Haven off the grid until we come up with a plan to defeat the demon, but the immediate goal is simply to make it to tomorrow.
The bathroom door creaks open just as I turn toward it, stack of fresh clothes in one hand.
“For dinner, I was thinking we—” The words dry up in my mouth when Haven steps out of the bathroom in a tiny blue bikini.
She has a bath towel slung over one creamy shoulder and her discarded clothes clutched in her hand. But I’m not looking at the clothes or the towel. I’m drinking in her form as she moves, practically mesmerized as her hips sway back and forth with each step.
I stumble over my words before clearing my throat and finding my voice. “What are you doing?”
She shrugs. “I thought it would be obvious. I’m going for a swim.”
She bends over her bag again to return her clothes, and I tear my gaze away.
“A swim?” I ask, feeling like my mental processing has ground to a halt.
“Yep,” she says.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see her straighten and think it’s safe to look back. It isn’t. My body reacts immediately, and I can’t tear my gaze away.
I’ve seen Locklyn in a sports bra or swimsuit a million times over the years, so seeing Haven dressed like this shouldn’t be such a shock.
But Haven isn’t Locklyn.
She’s softer, curvier, than her twin.
My hand twitches with the desire to reach out and place it above the swell of her hip, right where it looks like it belongs, and tug her close.
Whoa.
I take a step back, not realizing until that moment that I’d moved across the room and now was in touching distance.
I don’t feel the same attraction to Locklyn that I once did. What used to be a sharp pain when I thought of Locklyn has now dulled to a weak ache. There’s no more yearning for her in my heart, especially when I see how happy she is with Talon.
Sure, I don’t love seeing them being overly affectionate with each other. Who would? But the ache that still remains is over the loss of our closeness as friends, and a touch over what might have been, not out of a secret desire that I’m still keeping alive.
Shame cuts through me when the realization hits. Maybe this isn’t real attraction at all, just a twisted echo of what I once felt for Locklyn, misplaced on her twin?
But a quiet voice in the back of my mind reminds me that, as deeply as I cared for Locklyn, I was never struck dumb, mesmerized like I am now.
I clear my throat again, crossing my arms over my chest. Haven’s gaze shifts to one of my biceps before immediately bouncing back to my face.
“You packed a bikini in your go-bag?” I ask.
Color rises to Haven’s cheeks even as she crosses her arms, mirroring my stance. “You never know when you might need one. What if we decide to hide out somewhere tropical?”
I lift a brow, keeping my gaze on Haven’s face and away from her chest that she just unknowingly drew attention to. “Is that so?”
