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A low growl vibrates in his chest. He detangles our limbs, and I slowly melt into the mat, immediately missing the feel of his weight.
“You did good,” he mumbles, offering me a hand up.
“You think I’m ready for the big leagues?”
A lazy grin rolls across his mouth. “Stick to the little league, princess. I’m not sure you could handle more than that,” he rasps before ducking through the door. “Ima take a shower.”
“Wha… now?” I throw my hands up but go ignored. We have a shower at home. It’s a ten-minute ride, and his truck is filthy anyway.
I scurry to the edge of the ring and sit, my feet dangling as I start to unravel the tape. Once free, I waggle some life back into my fingers and wait for Jace to return. The urge to pee comes out of nowhere. I cross my legs, praying he comes out soon.What the hell is taking him so long?
With a haughty sigh, I hop down and venture toward the locker area. Another sigh follows close behind the first one. Of course it’s co-ed. Heaven forbid women get any privacy in a man’s world. The way I see it, I have three choices. I could hold it and hope for the best, I could start yelling for Jace to hurry thehell up (which will probably make him take longer in spite), or I can run in, do my business, and leave.
Choosing the latter, I push through the door. The torrential water echoes off the tile. I creep past and slip into a stall and do what I came to do, but on my way out, I’m startled by the sound of Jace’s voice. For a split second, I think I’m caught, but the low rumble continues, a raged rush of breathy mumbles and guttural groans. I catch a glimpse of his back through the small space between the curtain and the wall. Water cascades down his sinewy body, the light catching on the hills and valleys of muscle. The air leaves my lungs. I know it’s wrong. He deserves his privacy as much as anyone else, but I can’t look away.
Then he tips his head back. A moan catapults to the ceiling as he braces his free hand on the wall in front of him.
Holy shit.
Jace is …
Holy shit.
I back away as if seeing a bear in the forest. Outside on the bench, I try to scrub the image from my brain, but it’s no use. It plays over and over, the blood rushing in my ears like the rain running down his skin. I can’t unsee it. Worst of all, I can’t unhear it.
Jace was not just pleasuring himself in the shower.
He was moaning my name.
Chapter eleven
“You have to quarantine for two whole weeks? You’re not even sick.”
With the phone pressed to my ear, I pace my room in a tight circle. “Yeah, I know, but it’s precaution.”
Troy makes anicksound. “It’s ridiculous is what it is.”
I roll my eyes. Is he really giving me shit over something I can’t control? Meanwhile, he barely even acknowledges the fact that Jace’s mom is in the hospital. “Cindy is better, by the way. Her fever broke last night.” My voice drips with sarcasm.
“Oh, um… that’s good.”
When I sit on the edge of the bed, my pencil rolls beneath my thigh. I pull it out and tuck it into the spokes of my sketchpad. My gaze scans the various designs drawn on the top page. I’ve never been much of an artist but ever since Jolene asked me to create a design plan for the store, my brain has been exploding with ideas. Not just for Boots n’ Bangles, but designer style fashion as well. The more I draw, the faster they come. I wonder if this is how Coco Chanel felt at first?
“Yeah. She and Jace should be home any second.”
“Great,” he mumbles with zero inflection.
“What?” I ask with an exasperated sigh.
“Nothing. I just hate the idea of you holed up in the house with Jace for two weeks.”
The mention of his name sends a shudder down my spine. My shoulders tense. Ghosts of last night haven’t left me alone. It’s all I’ve thought about. The rumble of my name sliding off his tongue, angry and feral. Even now, I find myself crossing my legs to staunch the smoldering desire beginning to build. “I’ll be fine.”
“I think it would be best if you quarantined here. That way I can keep an eye on you.”
My lips fall open while my woozy mind scrambles for a response. “I don’t need you to keep an eye on me.”
A heavy breath floats over the line. “That’s not what I meant. All I’m saying is, what if you get sick? Who will take care of you? Jace? Not likely. Here, you’d have staff at your beck and call.”
