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When I reach up to kiss him, he doesn’t resist, and I decide not to doubt it anymore. He likes me. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t kiss me again like this.
In the hard light of day, he still wants me. So, the least I can do is respect him and believe that it’s true. We sink into the kiss and I let the last of my denial wash away into want and adoration.
CHAPTER23
JOEL
There are a lot of things I don’t understand about Ben’s apartment, like his storage situation or his absolute commitment to the color gray, but one thing I am on board with is the water pressure. It’s fantastic. The shower is hot and strong and big enough for two to stand comfortably inside.
I know that because I’m standing right behind Anna, her back to me as she washes her hair.
“Your skin feels great,” I say into her ear.
“Thanks, I think.”
“Definitely a compliment. I could touch you all day.”
To prove my point, I wrap my arms around her again, pulling her in close to my chest. Her wet hair slaps against my shoulder as she leans back into me, her hands on mine. I lean down to kiss her neck, getting a mouthful of water and hair but I don’t care. I’ve never been a huge fan of shower sex — it’s always way less practical than people try to make it seem. But I’d do it if she asked me.
I think I’d do anything if she asked me. And if I said that to her, she’d laugh in my face.
No one has ever made me want to be a better person like she does. Into her skin where she won’t hear, I mouthI love you. I love you.
The idea of her saying it back makes me dizzy.
“You feel pretty great yourself,” she says, twirling around in my arms to face me, blinking water out of her eyes. I lean down to kiss her and she melts into it, her hands splayed on my back, steam rising between us, literally.
“We should turn off the water if we’re going to keep going,” I whisper.
“Why, afraid of the water bill?”
Smiling, I kiss her forehead. “No, I don’t want to slip over and die.”
“That would make a hell of a headline,” she grins, pulling away from me to turn the shower off. The head drips a few times, water splashing onto the drain.
“It sure would. Plus, kissing with water in your mouth is no fun.”
She sticks her tongue out at me. Her face is flushed from the hot shower and as she steps out, droplets of water snake down her back and arms, drawing my attention to her ass. How am I supposed to not look? I follow her out and she hands me a towel before wrapping one around herself.
I guess I got a little overexcited last night because there are pink marks on her shoulders and collarbones like a treasure trail leading down to her breasts. I want to add to them, to make snaking patterns all over her body from my kisses.
But it’s refreshing to be clean, and I am tired after last night. We must have slept for about two hours, max. Worth it.
“Why,” I say, patting myself dry as she loops a towel around her head, capturing her hair in an intricate wrap, “does Ben not know what colors are?”
She flicks her head back and grins. “I know, right! What’s with all the gray? Like, even the towels are dull. I know red’s his favorite color, but it’s like he’s trying to live in some weird minimalist fantasy.”
“What’s your favorite color?”
Without hesitation, she answers, “Orange.”
“But you wear loads of blue.”
She shakes her head at my confusion. “It suits me more.” She opens a cupboard, frowns, and shuts it again. “Why isn’t there a hairdryer in here?”
“Because Ben doesn’t have any hair,” I say, which gets me frowned at even more.
As Anna keeps hunting, I let myself watch her, trace the slopes of her shoulders and the back of her neck with my eyes. She hasn’t got perfect skin — in fact, nothing is perfect about her, but I don’t want her to be.
