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“Everything ok?” Peter asked, toweling off his hair.
As I looked up my jaw dropped. When did Peter become so muscular? In only his jeans resting low on his hips, without a shirt, his biceps and pecs were huge . . . and that stomach, it was cut hard, narrow, and without a doubt beyond sexy ending in that perfect “v” that made my mouth suddenly go dry. I averted my eyes, blushing.
“Here.”
He took the phone from my outstretched hand, “What?” His brow furrowed as he read the messages, scrolling through all nine of them.
“He’s still mad. The last one was an hour ago,” I bit my lower lip. I do that when I’m angry or upset. Or nervous. Definitely when I’m nervous.
His expression turned angry, and he clenched his open fist, “Still mad or still drunk.”
I shrugged, “Does it matter which?”
“No,” he answered in disgust.
Peter tossed the phone back to me and I caught it, shoving it back into my front pocket again. The sound of raindrops outside the window made me jump up. In a matter of moments, the light droplets turned heavier until it was a total downpour.
“Stay with me.”
At the sound of his voice, so near, I jumped. Darn it. The tension from last night was back.
“Shhh,” Peter
soothed as his arms inched around my waist, “It’s going to rain all day. Just stay here, where I know you’ll be safe.” He rested his chin on my shoulder, holding me as if I would walk away, “I don’t like to see you upset.”
It was Friday anyway. Nobody cared if we ditched. The rest of the career fair was this afternoon and classes would end early. It was almost the end of May, at this point, it hardly mattered. The year was almost over. After finals I was finished.
“I’ll stay.”
His body relaxed, “Good.”
I turned around, forgetting he was without a shirt. My eyes landed on his solid muscular chest as I sucked in a breath. I bit my lip, chewing on the edge as my insides turned to mush.
“Rae,” his voice filled with humor. “My eyes are up here.”
I blushed at least a thousand shades of crimson and pushed away from him in embarrassment.
Pete laughed so hard I thought I would have to punch him, “Come here.”
I shook my head and backed away toward his dresser, hoping to recover the little amount of dignity I had left.
“Baby, it’s me. Don’t look so scared.”
I tossed a frustrated look of impatience in his direction.
“Aw, come on Rae,” he begged, and tried not to smile, but I couldn’t resist his big stupid grin.
My eyes darted to his bedroom doorway. If I made a run for it, I could reach it before he caught me. I was fast. Fast enough to outrun him. I proved it last summer at the track meet.
Slowly I inched my way around him, not daring to focus my eyes on my objective. Peter was watching my face intently. He knew I was up to something. Just a few steps more and . . . boom, I shot off like a rocket right past him.
“Rae!” he yelled, half laughing. “Where do you think you’re going?”
I giggled in delight, shouting behind me, “Away from you!”
I ran up the stairs of his house, down the hall and away from his steady gaze. I paused for two seconds and ran into his dad’s room, doing a baseball slide under the bed. I had to cover my mouth with my hands to stop the giggles from escaping. The chase was on.
“Rae!” I heard his laugh close by. “When I find you . . .”
