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High Sticking the Heart

Page 82

by Marie Maravilla

“Don’t be a little bitch, Ari. It’s a room,” I told myself, finally gaining the courage to enter.

His bedroom had the same moody vibe as the rest of the apartment, but felt more personal—more lived-in. Clothes were draped over a leather chair tucked in the corner, and various knick-knacks lay scattered across his dresser. I ran my fingertips across the wooden top, picking up a cologne that looked barely used. He either liked it a lot and it was an extra, or he hated and kept it for some reason. I uncapped it, catching a whiff of an awful powdery scent.

“Ugh. Definitely hates it,” I muttered, picking up something else. I smiled when I realized it was the keys to the Audi, remembering his shy grin the whole ride to the rink after I begged him to drive Betty the morning after I’d spent the night. My gaze snagged back on the cologne. “Why do you do things you don’t like, Thatcher?”

The whole time I was walking around the perimeter of his room, I actively avoided looking at his bed. The anticipation was bubbling up inside me, threatening to boil over. But instead of giving in, I walked into the ensuite. Thanks to Dallas’s thousand percent humidity levels, I’d been sweating all day, and there was no way I would sleep in someone’s bed smelling like swamp-ass. I might as well have been living underwater at this point, or at least that’s how it felt coming from a part of California where we panicked if it hit seventy-five.

My mouth dropped when I flicked on the light. His bathroom was massive, easily bigger than Gracie’s apartment. His shower alone was big enough to rent out, and there were more shower heads than I knew what to do with. There was no way I was waiting to test it out.

I stripped out of my clothes. Goosebumps pebbled up along my bare skin, a mix of the chilled air-conditioned air and the sheer fact that I was standing naked in the same space that Dalton stood naked.

You’re losing it, Ari. Who gets turned on by that?

Me, apparently.

THIRTY-SEVEN

DALTON

DYING OF BLUE BALLS AND BROKEN DREAMS…

I released a heavy, long-held breath, my stomach churning with a mix of frustration and disappointment that Ari hadn’t responded yet.

My head hit the starchy pillow as I flopped back onto the hotel bed, shoving another artificially flavored orange and yellow ring into my mouth. Sugar coating my chest.

Jimenez had invited me out with the guys, but I’d told them to head out without me. Now I was starting to regret it because at least it would have distracted me from Ari’s radio silence.

Just go. There’s no need to stay here and wallow over the fact that she’s not answering.

God, I was pathetic. What did I think was going to happen? That she was going to ca⁠—

My phone buzzed, Ari’s name flashing across the top. It wasn’t just a phone call…she was Facetiming me.

“Ari?”

It took me a second to realize she was calling me from my bathroom. She stood, wrapped in one of my towels, her bare skin peeking out from beneath the white, fluffy fabric in a way that had my blood rushing south.

“Dalton, how the hell do I work this damn thing? Am I supposed to have an engineering degree to turn it on? ” she whisper-yelled, blowing a strand of hair out of her face with a huff.

Those pretty brown eyes peered at me from the screen, hair teasing the exposed skin of her collarbone. The dim light softened the edges of her features, making her look ethereal.

It took me a second to process what she was saying, too mesmerized by how fucking sexy she was.

“Quit smiling at me like that.” She rolled her eyes. I hadn’t even realized I was, and for some reason, that only made the smile grow. “Are you going to tell me or make me stand here all night?”

Right. Shower.

I chuckled when it all clicked into place. “It’s going to cost you, Sunshine,” I said, tucking an arm behind my head.

“What’s that supposed to mean, Thatcher?”

“Drop the towel.”

She hesitated, gnawing on that bottom lip that always tasted like strawberries. For a second, I didn’t think she was going to do it, but then the white fabric fell away, and the sight of the curve of her breasts had my cock stirring. “There, happy?”

“Not even a little. I can’t see anything,” I complained, tilting the screen like that would help see more of her body.

She smirked, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “Next time, be more specific that you’re trying to see me naked. Now, cough up the information.”