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“Dillon.”
“What?”
He plants his lips on mine, kissing me, stealing all words and thoughts from me.
“Hmm,” he murmurs against my lips. “You taste sweet from those gummy bears.”
“I taste sweet because I am sweet.”
West takes the glass of wine from my hand and sets it down on the ledge beside the bath along with his bottle of beer.
Then, he reaches a hand back and pulls his T-shirt over his head in one swift move. His shorts are next to go.
Of course, I’m standing and watching the show.
Because wowsers.
Honestly, I think I could be with this guy a lifetime and still never get used to how he looks naked.
Not that I have a lifetime with him. Just one more week.
“You’re naked,” I stupidly say as he’s tying his hair back.
A chuckle. “Not totally naked.” He gestures to his boxer shorts. “But I am about to get in the bath, and usually, nakedness accompanies that.”
“True.”
“You, however, are still fully clothed.”
“How many hours in the gym did it take to get those abs?” I haven’t taken my eyes off his abs. They’re like the sun. You just have to look, even knowing you’ll get retinal burns.
“A lot.”
“I have honestly never seen abs like yours in real life. They’re amazing.”
A deep laugh rumbles in his chest. “Your honesty is good for my ego.”
I lift my eyes to his. “Seriously. I have never seen a body like yours outside of television.”
“I’ve never seen a body like yours.”
“Uh, yeah, sure.” I laugh. “Unless you’re calling me fat?” I tease.
“Definitely not calling you fat. And I’m serious, Dillon. You’re fucking beautiful. You know that, right?”
I don’t say anything because I don’t know. When I look in the mirror, I see how much I look like my mother. My eyes, nose, chin, hair … all her. We get told all the time that we could be sisters. My mum, of course, loves that.
I know she’s beautiful.
But when I look at myself in the mirror, it’s not beauty I see. I just see a really sad girl who wants more than anything for her mother, who she looks so much like, to love her.
West takes my silence and reads it well. “Well, you should know. Because you are fucking stunning.”
I lick my dry lips. “Yeah, well, I’m sure you’ve known a lot of beautiful women.”
“I have. But like I said, none quite like you.”
Sometimes, his honesty is hard to hear, and it’s this exact moment that it bugs me most. I feel irrational jealousy at the other women he’s been with. It’s stupid, I know. It’s not like I don’t know he’s been with other women. That he’ll be with other women after me. But it’s there all the same.
I shove it down. Deep down inside of me to deal with later.
“And … is that a good thing?” I ask him. “That I’m different?”
He stares at me. His expression impossible to read. Then, he says, “Very.”
That one single word lights a spark inside of my chest that I’m not sure I know how to put out.
But I have to. Because I can’t get attached to him.
“Bath’s getting full.” I busy myself with turning the taps off and testing the water with my hand. “Temperature is perfect,” I tell him. “You can get in if you want.”
West shoves his boxers down over his hips and climbs into the tub. Sitting back, he rests his arms on the edges of the bath.
I pull my tank top off and remove my shorts. I’m wearing a bikini underneath.
Usually, I have zero problems with getting naked in front of West. But after that conversation, I’m fully exposed. A bit vulnerable.
“I need to tie my hair up. Just gonna grab a hairband.” I nip into the bathroom, thankful for the moment alone to gather myself. I grab a scrunchie and tie my hair into a messy bun, so it doesn’t get wet in the bath.
Then, I suck it up and go back outside.
West’s eyes come to me the moment I step through the doorway.
This moment feels etched in tension, and I know it’s because of me. Because I’m feeling weird. I’m being weird. I need to quit with this shit.
I know how this thing with us ends—with him flying back to America and me to England—and that’s in a week.
Reaching back, I pull the string tie on my bikini and the one around my neck. Catching it in my hand, I push my bikini bottoms down my legs and leave both items on the floor.
I walk over to the bath. West bends and parts his legs, so I can get in. I step into the bath and turn, putting my back to him, and sit down in the space between his legs. West tugs me back, bringing me to rest against his chest.
“You okay?” he asks me.
