I stare at the mat, not sure what’s going on.“Why are you giving me this?”
His hair falls over his forehead when he glances at the patch of brown where my mat used to sit.“To replace the one I stole.”Before I can ask why he stole my mat, he adds, “I probably shouldn’t have done that, but advertising that you don’t lock your door is reckless.You’re a single woman living on her own.You need to lock your damn door.”
Clearly, he’s trying to be protective or helpful or whatever, but I didn’t ask for his help or his opinion.With all the crap happening with my parents, my patience is thinner than a blade of grass.This is the final straw.
I grit my teeth and force out a smile.“Let me get this straight.You stole my mat, then proceeded to come here with an ugly mat as a peace offering?”
His lips tighten with his frown.“I thought you’d like this one.It’s your favorite color.”
“Yellow isn’t my favorite color.”It is.It totally is.
Ethan looks pointedly from my pale yellow “Mugs” T-shirt to my lemon-yellow surfboard leaning against the canary-colored siding and then down to my car in the driveway.“Could’ve fooled me,” he mutters.“Do you want the mat or not?”
I snatch the thing out of his grasp.Of course I do.It’s adorable.
He turns to head down the front stairs, seems to think better of it, and then stomps right back up.“Oh, and another thing.You need to buy a new door for your shower.”
“My shower has a curtain, not a door.”It may or may not be yellow, too—not that he would know that unless he went for a little snoop through my unlocked house.
“Youroutdoorshower,” he clarifies with a swipe of his hand through his dark hair.
“Why?You steal that too?”
His face flushes.We’re not talking about a tinge of pink around his jaw.His whole face turns the color of a tomato.Ethan Davis blushing might be my new favorite thing.
Glancing toward the beach, he runs a hand along the back of his neck and says, “You can see right into your shower from my parents’ back deck.”
What?“Now you’re perving on me?”To be fair, the idea doesn’t disturb me as much as it probably should.
“I’m not—” He huffs out a frustrated breath.When his eyes meet mine, they’re filled with what appears to be genuine concern.“I didn’t look.But I could have.And not every man has the same level of self-control.”
Now I don’t know whether to be pissed off or embarrassed.Both are appropriate given the situation.However, there’s a flicker of warmth deep in my stomach that feels a lot like pride.This guy who craves control clearly had a hard time looking away from whatever he saw.
“Just get a new door, okay?”he says with an exasperated sigh.
There’s something about that commanding tone that makes the warmth in my stomach spread between my thighs.
He’s so domineering.So uptight, I want to ruffle his feathers.Throw him off-kilter.Take some of that control for myself.
“You know what I think?”I ask, letting my gaze linger on his mouth a beat too long before lifting it to meet his eyes.
Ethan’s dark brows arch as he watches me, so close that I can feel the heat from his body warming mine.I close the gap a fraction more, until my breasts brush against his hard chest, and say, “I think I like my shower door just the way it is.”
CHAPTERELEVEN
ETHAN
“I thinkI like my shower door just the way it is.”
Twelve words that have played in my head a thousand times since Monday.I left Chloe’s house right after she said them, my breath short and a throb stirring below my belt over what she might’ve been hinting at.
Was she trying to tell me she doesn’t mind if Iwatchher?Was she actually inviting me to?
No way.This is how delusional men convince themselves a gorgeous girl is hitting on them, and then get slapped in the face when they try to do something about it.
Chloe seems like a carefree woman who does whatever the hell she wants.She probably meant that she couldn’t be bothered fixing her shower door.Might’ve even said it to make a point because she didn’t like me sticking my nose in her business.
Then again, our conversation in the coffee shop before her dad interrupted tells a different story.
