Craving Cecilia - Nicole Jacquelyn Page 0,58

ready?”

Cecilia’s eyes popped open as she sat up. “Yeah, all set.”

She followed me groggily to the bathroom, clutching her toiletry bag against her stomach, then stood there awkwardly as I turned the shower on for her.

“You can just put the clothes on the toilet,” she murmured finally. “I got it from here.”

I laughed. “No way am I leaving you in here to pass out alone in the shower.”

“You’re not staying.”

“I am,” I said flatly, sitting down on the closed toilet lid.

“I can shower by myself.”

“Not happening.”

She stood there staring at me like the force of her gaze could get me to change my mind. I wasn’t sure why, since it had never worked in the almost twenty years we’d known each other.

“You want me to go get your mom instead?” I asked.

She grimaced. “No.”

“Then you’ve got me.”

Cecilia let out a loud sigh and I felt my lips twitching as I tried not to smile.

“At least give me five minutes alone to go to the bathroom,” she said mutinously.

“Fine.” I got to my feet and set her clothes on the counter. “But if you lock that door, I’ll break it down.”

“You’re an asshole,” she muttered in exasperation, clearly frustrated that I’d known what she was up to.

“Been called worse,” I said as I slid around her to the door. “Keep this unlocked.”

By the time I opened the door again and stepped inside, she was already in the shower. I was both relieved and a little disappointed, but the frosted shower door didn’t hide much. I tried to give her some privacy, averting my eyes as I leaned against the counter, but I couldn’t seem to stop my gaze from darting back to her silhouette over and over again. Hell, I was an asshole. But Jesus, it had been nearly a decade since I’d seen her naked, and I was jonesing big time for another look.

When the shower finally shut off, I grabbed a towel from the shelf above the toilet and handed it over the door.

“Thanks,” she called wearily. “Did you bring my bag in with you?”

“Yeah, I got it,” I said to the wall, my back to her.

She was silent for a few moments. “Okay, can you hand me the underwear and bra?”

“You’re gonna get dressed in the shower?” I asked doubtfully.

“I’m all dried off,” she replied. “You can just toss them over the door.”

I laughed as I grabbed her underwear from the bag. No way was I tossing them to her. She’d never been able to catch anything, her hand-eye coordination was the equivalent of a four-year-old. “Here,” I said, keeping my eyes on the wall as I handed them over.

A few curses from the shower later, I was sidestepping to get out of her way as she swung the door open.

“Damn, it’s cold,” she complained, shivering as she bent down to the bag on the floor. She swayed a little. “Can you give me a minute to get dressed?”

“You’re standin’ in front of me in your underwear,” I replied, trying to ignore the changes I could see, the ones I wanted to map with my hands. “Why do you need a minute to get dressed? What’s left to hide?”

I knew I should probably give her some privacy, but the way she was swaying worried me. I wasn’t about to leave her alone and have her go down when I couldn’t catch her. In all honesty, I also wasn’t sure that I could drag myself away at that point.

“You know what?” she snapped. “Nothing at all.”

Then, without any kind of hesitation, she reached into her toiletry bag.

When we were young, we’d been adventurous, to put it lightly. I’d seen Cecilia naked in every position known to man, and probably a few that we’d invented ourselves. But it was almost an out of body experience as I watched her pull her underwear down around her thighs and place a pad in the crotch, situating it just so. It was more personal, more intimate, than anything I’d ever experienced. I felt it like a blow to the solar plexus, that small peek into something so private. Swallowing hard, I watched as she pulled the underwear back up around her hips.

She stood up defiantly, her arms dangling at her sides, and I was toast.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” I blurted, staring at her as I tried to figure out what the fuck I was feeling. She was Cecilia. I knew I loved her. I’d always known I loved her.

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