And then he walks out. Just like that.
Air rushes back into my lungs in a gasp, and the shop becomes a hundred times emptier. I watch as he leaves, glued to every step as the gap between us widens. I’m itching to run after him.
Why the hell didn’t I say yes?
Benji dodges an idiot who’s clearly speeding down the alleyway—tourists, I swear—but he’s stopped when the car hits the pothole. Water sprays everywhere.
It drips off Benji’s hair, soaks into his shirt, stains dark patches across his jeans.
“Oh my God,” I whisper to myself.
He’s drenched.
Our eyes meet through the glass, and I feel terrible. I pushed him away, and look at what happened. Is this one of those signs Marcie is always telling me about? Now he’s going to spend the day in damp clothes, probably getting sick while he’s at it, all because of me.
Chapter Thirteen
PAIGE
The sign on In Frame is set toClosed, but the door itself is unlocked, so I rush in without knocking and follow the sounds of Benji’s grumbling to his workshop, only to slam to a stop when I find Benji standing naked before me.
“Oh fuck,” I whisper.
His clothes are in a wet pile on the floor. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t tan lines and muscles and …
“See something you like?”
I think my heart is about to thump its way out of my chest.
“I …”
“Yes?”
I should go. Right? Definitely. This is … probably crossing some kind of boundary, except Benji definitely doesn’t look like he minds, and I can’t stop staring at him, all of him, bare and ripped and even more delicious than I remember.
Fuck.
I step farther into the workshop, letting the door fall closed behind me. “You left. I thought you would …”
“What?” he asks, frustration pinching the bridge of his nose. “Force you? I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to, Paige.”
In front of me are miles and miles of gorgeous skin. The overhead lamp kisses the muscles of his chest and arms, and a dark trail of hair happily leads from his belly button all the way down, down, down to the very impressive cock I have been trying desperately not to think about.
Double fuck.
He rubs a hand over his head, spraying a mist of water in the air. One drop drags down his neck, licking the long span of skin. It pauses briefly when he swallows. I can practically taste it from here. Half rain, allhim.
“And, um, if I wanted to?”
He leans back against his workbench with his arms crossed over his chest. I move farther into the room, stopping opposite him. I can’t help it; my gaze drops again to where he’s thick and not hard yet but definitely getting there.
Heat pools in my belly.
“Do you? Because you didn’t seem so sure a few minutes ago.”
“I do. I …”
I force my eyes to the ceiling, pressing my back into the shelf behind me. God, if we both reached out, our hands would meet, and it’s killing me not to. But …
