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After the world’s most luxurious shower, in which I try every soap and scrub, shave every inch of my lower body, and then spend some time just standing under the pounding water, I get dressed. I swipe on mascara, then unpack my bag.
I haven’t broken the news to Thomas and Natalie that I’m not returning. They think I’m gone for a few days at most, and Thomas didn’t say anything to the contrary about NHL travel schedules. No matter that Jacob apparently has a home game in a few days.
The clothes I brought with me are laid out on my bed. Just a few shirts, pants, underwear. Not enough to sustain me, but I guess I’ve got money coming in soon. It’ll last until then, and I may as well stay organized.
I open the closet and go still.
There are already clothes hanging in neat rows. Same with in the bureau on the other side of the closet, half the drawers are filled.
Did Jacob have another roommate before me?
Or worse—a girlfriend? Did he put her clothes in here and then forget about them?
My throat closes, and a wave of nausea rolls through me. I storm out of my room and into the living area, which is empty. I spin on my heel and burst into his room.
There’s a chance he won’t even be here. He said he was going to the gym…
But that was before my hour-long shower, doing my makeup, puttering around the bathroom.
Right as I stride in, I realize my error.
Heishere. Fresh out of his own shower.
Naked.
His back muscles ripple, the towel up over his head as he rubs his hair dry. I follow the planes of his back down to his glorious ass. The backs of his thighs, hell, even his calves are amazing.
“Oh God.” I slap my hand over my mouth, when it should be my eyes that I cover. Butfuck me, I can’t stop staring.
He turns to face me, shock flickering across his expression. But then I forget what his expression even is, because my attention goes down… and down…
His cock is swollen, jutting out from his body. The head is red, almost angry looking. It twitches and goes up more the longer I stare.
“You okay?”
“You’re not covering yourself.” My voice is thick.
“No,” he agrees. He twists farther in my direction, until his dick is pointing at me. His muscles in his abdomen tighten.
“Why not?”
He flips the towel over his shoulder. His dark hair is going every which direction. But he doesn’t answer and instead takes a step toward me.
“Sex is the last thing on my list,” I blurt out.
He pauses.
“Um, it occurred to me that I don’t know what I’ve done. Or like. Or want to do. So it’s on the list, and now I guess I can cross off seeing a penis in person. It’s a, uh, good one to see first. That I can remember. Obviously. You know, I was kind of afraid that the guy on the train was going to whip out his dick, and that would be an awful first one. How traumatizing.”
Shut up, Mel.
“Anyway.” I back toward the door. “Lovely. Fine specimen. I don’t really have anything else to say, so I’m going to go—”
“Melody.” His voice sends tingles straight through me.
I squeeze my eyes shut. It’s the only way I can break the staring contest with his cock.
“What else is on your list? Besides seeing a dick.”
