“Bee, are you trying to—Are you okay?” he asked cautiously.
“No. It’s a million degrees in this thing. I want to take it off.” This wasn’t a seduction attempt anymore. This was me roasting alive in these ancient clothes from the humiliation of being rejected in a situation that should have been a guaranteed slam dunk … home run … whatever. I never did get sports metaphors.
I tugged at the zipper on the snowsuit in earnest. The fabric was a sensory nightmare as my skin grew damp, and the highly flammable poly-whatever-blend clung to me.
“This frickin’ zipper—” With each movement, I tugged at the zipper, but a piece of fabric had gotten stuck in the teeth, and I couldn’t even see what I was doing because it was so big my face disappeared into it every time I looked down. My muffled voice held a whine. “Is … stuck.”
I pulled my arms in to try to get out another way, but all that did was turn me into a giant sausage. With my head stuck in a prison of my own making, I could only hear Owen’s soft chuckles.
“You look like one of those inflatable things at car lots.”
“It’s not funny,” I said, still muffled.
“It’s a little funny. You’ll think so later.”
“Ugh.” I flailed one last time but had only succeeded in getting myself hotter. And accidentally smacking him.
“Ow,” he said.
“Help me.” I sniffled. So much for my debut seduction.
“Oh, Bee,” he said closer now. “I’ve got you.” He’d said the same thing when he scooped me up and carried me through a horrifying snowstorm.
I believed him. I felt so safe with him. I stopped my struggle when the floor creaked with his arrival to stand in front of me. I slowed my breathing, my stifling breath filling the hot space.
My body was pulled to and fro as he tugged. The beautiful sound of a zipper releasing … and then, ah, sweet, fresh, cool air and light. I took a deep breath in and smiled up at him. He didn’t smile back. He looked at me with pupils blown out in his light eyes. He used his two capable hands to push the sweaty strands off my face. My smile relaxed, and I licked my lips; he tracked the movement.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“You’re your own worst enemy sometimes,” he said softly.
“You have no idea.”
Only a few inches were separating us; his chest rose and fell though nothing compared to my own. I was aware of every molecule of air brushing against my skin. The air held enough electricity to power this whole city. So maybe not a seduction fail?
Without breaking eye contact, I pushed the suit down all the way off my body.
Owen swallowed audibly. The hallows of his cheeks deepened as the muscles of his jaw flexed.
His eyes never moved an inch from holding on to my own. I stepped back so that he could take in the whole view without needing to move them.
“Bee,” he sighed my name, frustrated. I lifted one foot out and then the other.
When I reached up for the strings of my bikini, his hand shot out to stop me.
“Wait,” he said.
My arms dropped to my sides. His own hands went to the buttons of his flannel.
“Now we’re talking,” I said.
He huffed, trying so hard not to smile. The tendons in his hands popped as his fingers worked with confident dexterity. His fingers were so thick and long, yet they took such care with their actions. Soon, his white undershirt revealed hard planes of muscles that I had only felt but never got to touch or see. His clean, masculine scent made my mouth water as he closed the distance between us again, shrugging out of the flannel. My heart was pumping blood so hard that I felt a little tremor with every beat. The heat. This moment. The way helookedat me, directly at me, with such soft fondness.
It meant so much to me. I was having a hard time slowing the growing realization in my chest. This wasn’t just about the hookup, and I wasn’t ready to examine that just yet.
This was how it could be. This was how people felt when they were really seen.
He looped his shirt over my shoulders. “Here. You can wear this for now.”
