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We don’t have that kind of relationship.
Even if I thought we should, I’ll never go there.
Especially because that one second slip was enough for me to notice the coconut smell of her hair, fresh and inviting and lethal. One more temptation calling me to my doom.
One more feature I shouldn’t notice, let alone dwell on with the same damnable stickiness as her oat brick in my stomach.
“I’m lacking sleep,” I rush out. “I didn’t mean to—”
I stop.
To what? To touch her?
For fuck’s sake, where is my mind?
“For making you uncomfortable,” I finally finish.
“Huh? No, it’s nothing like that.” She stares at where my hands were just seconds ago. “I’m pretty sure I got over cooties with guys in gym back when I was in ninth grade. Just show me what you need to.”
Bad, bad idea.
Still, I move onward, positioning myself behind her, forcing my brain to think of nothing but kayaking and sea otters.
There’s no woman here.
No Destiny with her fruit-scented hair and sunny smiles and handfuls of curves that want to take my soul.
This universe is otter-centric.
Nothing else matters.
Otters, man.
“You need to move from your core,” I strangle out, moving the paddle like my life depends on it.
At first, there’s an easy resistance in her arms, but it soon melts away and she’s gliding with me.
Her back knocks against my chest.
By some miracle, my dick doesn’t go off like dynamite when her ass brushes me.
“Like this?” she whispers, so focused on the task.
“Better. Swing lower next time.”
We try it again. This time, I stop leading and she picks up the slack.
“Good,” I say.
To my surprise, she doesn’t toss the praise away like a rotten apple.
She just nods, and when I glance at the side of her face, I see how severely focused she is.
Holy fuck, why does she have to be so unbearably cute when she’s on a mission?
It’s like all her energy flows into this one thing with laser intensity.
That’s too familiar and too close to home, something that’s served me well.
