Page 23 of Back Outside Edge

"Oh, shut up," I mutter at both of them. Teresa giggles through the phone line, and Stefan smiles. “It happens.”

Stefan's eyes are gleaming, and I want to drown in them, but I force myself back. Again. “I was going to go watch the rhythm dance. Do you want to come? I'm sure we have some empty seats.” It's a ridiculous question. If he was going to go, he'd want to sit with the Americans, wouldn't he? Why did I ask? I'm so pathetic.

His smile grows a little bit on one side, quirking up adorably. God, I am so screwed. “I was planning to take a shower and nap for a little while.”

“Oh, right, of course. No, you should definitely do that. It's been a long day.”

“But,” he drawls with another half smile. It's not his camera smile or his sunshine smile or even his usual half smile; it's something different, something I haven't seen before. The warmth in it makes my heart flutter. “Would you mind if I meet you there after I shower? I'm not as tired anymore.”

Now my heart's stopping again. Good Lord, is this man going to give me a heart attack? The look in those eyes sears right through me, setting every nerve ending ablaze. “Uh, sure, of course. Yes, you're definitely welcome. Absolutely.”

Teresa's snickering on the other side of the phone line again, but I ignore her.

“Ok.” He looks vulnerable for some reason, his shyness that creeps out now and then. Maybe he’s not sure what he’s doing. If so, that's ok. I'm not either, but I’m in on whatever this ride is. “As long as you don't mind if I cheer for your competitors,” he adds, a clear attempt to lighten the mood again.

I let him, grinning. “Oh, our dancers are going to waste your dancers.”

Another half snort, and he smiles back at me. “Want to bet on it?”

“Sure.” I lean a little back in towards him, watching his eyes flash with humor. “What do you want to bet?” Oh crap, did I sound as suggestive as I think I did?

Teresa's gasp and giggle says yes. Oops. Her voice goes soto, trying to be subtle, maybe. Hard to do, since she’s still on speaker. "Holy shit, Evan, are you hooking up with Stefan Petryk?" The noise in the background picks up. I must be really late.

“Of course not,” I hiss back at her. Stefan raises his eyebrow again. My cheeks are flaming.

But his smile is lazy when he lets it out again. “I know. If you win, you don't have to leave early tomorrow. If I win, you have to bring me back breakfast.”

“Deal,” I say, too fast, trying to reestablish normalcy. Again.

His hand shoots out, and I shake it solemnly. Both of us start laughing, the absolute ridiculousness of the whole situation kicking in. Teresa's saying something, but I'm not listening, too busy reveling in the sound of Stefan's laugh and the sensation of his hand on mine.

Such a simple, common, everyday gesture, but with Stefan, in this moment, I feel like I'm flying. Like his hand is the only thing keeping me tethered.

Our touch lingers long past the point where a simple handshake would have stopped. I'm struggling not to pull, reel him in closer. I want his body against mine, to finally taste him.

The look in his eyes is compelling me as much as his touch. The softness and vulnerability. A spark of what looks like surprise, as if he's still far from sure about what is happening and never expected anything like this. Or maybe that's just me.

It's like catnip. I want to roll around in him, feel his every curve and muscle, taste the dried sweat on his neck. Surround myself in the bright blue of his eyes until I can't see anything else.

Teresa says something else, and it's enough to snap me back to the moment. Right. I have to get a grip on myself. I clear my throat again, and Stefan drops my hand, red painting his cheeks.

“I'm going to go take a shower,” he says, and he's off the bed in a flash, moving toward the bathroom. “I'll meet you there.”

“Great. Yeah, see you there.” I'm too dazed, too dazzled to move yet, so I sit, watching his back, his amazing ass, until the bathroom door clicks shut.

Yet another sound from Teresa, drowned out by the applause around her. How am I still holding the phone? Oh, I’m not. It’s laying face down on the comforter next to me. I try to focus on it, clearing my throat yet again. “I'm on my way, ok?”

A breathless giggle. "Oh, you're talking to me now, are you?"

“Yeah, shut up.” There is no heat to the statement. In fact, I'd be surprised if she heard me at all over the sound of cheering around her.

“Ok, I'm going to hang up on you now. Get your ass over here.”

“Yeah, on my way.” We hang up, but I don't move as the shower turns on. I picture Stefan naked, long legs stepping into the shower, and a shiver runs through me. I am so screwed.

“You don’t need to leave so early,” Stefan says, the next morning, as I’m heading out to get breakfast. “It’s ok.”

“I don’t mind.” I shoot him a smile, knowing how much the statement cost him.