Hold Me Close - Talia Hibbert Page 0,269

hanging low on his hips and a navy, collared shirt… in his hands. Which was, Rae reflected, both a useless and wonderful place for a shirt to be. He was humming to himself, but her mind was too scrambled to decipher the tune. She couldn’t process sound and watch water droplets roll over his skin.

Of course, she shouldn’t be watching the droplets at all, should she? Giving herself a mental slap, Rae tore her gaze away—and found his eyes on hers. Burning. Intense.

His absent humming stopped abruptly. For a heartbeat, the air seemed to crackle with electricity, like thunder might boom at any moment and shake them both to their cores. But the clock ticked, a second passed, and the tension vanished. She wondered if he’d felt it at all.

He turned his back on her, facing the mirror as he put on his shirt. “Sometimes I have no idea what you’re thinking.”

Thank God. “I was thinking you must be allergic to clothing. You seem to spend half your life barely dressed.”

He snorted, buttoning up the shirt. Bit by bit, the carved brilliance of his body disappeared. She wanted to rip the fabric off his back and set it on fire, then do the same to every shirt within a five-mile radius, just in case. “I promise I’m not allergic. Just lazy. Er…” Something uncertain entered his voice, and she saw him frown in the mirror. “Does it bother you? Because—”

Oh, no. She wasn’t about to make him feel awkward just because she had a sordid sort-of-crush. “It doesn’t bother me,” she said firmly, forcing a jovial laugh. Pretending he was Nate or Evan. “But you know how I get around muscles.”

It worked. He chuckled. “Yeah, I know. You lost it when we saw Aquaman.”

Her cheeks heated. “I don’t think I was that bad.”

“Are you joking? I think you actually moaned a few times.” He turned around, giving her a sweet, innocent smile. “It’s okay if you came a little bit. I’m sure you’re not alone.”

She slapped her hands over her face. “You’re so fucking annoying. I’m going to shower.”

He laughed as she scurried away, blissfully unaware that she was just as into him as she was into Jason Momoa. On a physical level, obviously, which was the only level Rae felt anything. Ever. She spent the length of her cold shower reminding herself of that fact, scrubbing her skin clean and her mind free of Zach-related thoughts. By the time she’d wriggled into her outfit and slapped on some makeup, she’d all but forgotten the whole thing. She was too busy staring at her own reflection and thinking about what a twat she looked.

This was why she hated Events with a capital E. She never felt excited or sparkly enough, so she’d make up for it by dressing nice and jabbing herself in the eye with a mascara wand. Then she’d come face to face with the finished product and realise she looked like her usual dull self, playing dress-up. Her lipstick was too bright, she should learn to use concealer, her eyebrows were uneven, and now she was agonising over her appearance like she’d travelled back in time to her teens.

Rae had not enjoyed her teens.

She checked her watch, sighed, and unlocked the bathroom door. Zach was lying on his side of the bed, a mirror image of the way she’d waited for him to shower. He had the hotel brochure in his hands and appeared to be reading the list of amenities like it was fine literature. There was a slight wrinkle between his dark eyebrows and a silky-straight lock of ebony hair slashed over his pale forehead. For some reason, she couldn’t stop staring at his socks, charcoal grey against the white sheets. He had big feet. She shouldn’t be surprised.

“What’d you do in there?” he asked, turning a page. “Sacrifice a—?” He looked up, and the words cut out like he’d swallowed his tongue. His brows rose, his gaze raking over her like she’d turned into an alien.

She swallowed, dredging up a smile. “Did I sacrifice a what?”

No dice. He remained silent as he studied her, though at least he’d closed his mouth now.

She shut her eyes and fingered the hem of her skirt. She’d meant for the cream swing dress to give her a sexy-smart dinner look, only it felt a bit too short. She’d gained some weight recently, so now her arse and belly took up fabric that her legs were sorely missing. Sigh.