Heartland (True North #7) - Sarina Bowen Page 0,82

already inventing new things I want to try with you.”

“You are?” I’m not able to keep the shock out of my voice. Because that implies we’ll be doing it again.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to help myself,” he says. And then he kisses me again.

Thirty-One

Dylan

It’s getting late, and I’m starting to yawn. Eventually, I convince Chastity that the people on the landing are too stoned to notice us tiptoeing past them. I wrap a towel around my waist and give Chastity my bathrobe for the short trip down the hallway to the bathroom I share with Keith.

The poker game is over, from the looks of things. There’s only two people left on the landing, and they’re discussing whether or not their lips are vibrating in tune with the universe.

Needless to say, nobody notices us or even makes a crack about our sex-tousled hair.

After cranking up the hot water in the shower, I guide Chastity under the warm spray. Then I step in after her, taking a handful of shampoo. I amuse myself by lathering up her hair and then mine.

I’m strangely joyful. Maybe it’s just the endorphins, but I feel so much tenderness toward Chastity. Like our friendship has a secret door I finally discovered. A door marked Smoking Hot Chemistry.

And—fine—it strokes my ego that I’m the only guy she went there with. My politically strident sister had convinced me that virginity is just a social construct. She’s probably mostly right. But I’m gratified that Chastity trusted me with some of her “firsts.”

Is it awful that I enjoyed being the one to show her the ropes?

“Tip your head back,” I say when I need to rinse her hair. I’ll bet she’s never showered with anyone before, either. It’s weirdly intimate to wash another person.

I fucking love it, honestly. I’m such a hedonist. And it makes me happy to train her in my self-indulgent ways.

Gently, I rotate her so I can wash us both. Just to be a goof, I lower my hand to soap up her butt.

Right away, I know something’s wrong. Her smooth, water-slicked skin gives way to grooves and ridges. I hastily lean back, so I can see what the hell happened there.

Deep, whitened scars. Dozens of them. Carved right into her sweet body. “What the fuck.” The harsh words just pop out, and a wave of nausea runs through me.

Someone hurt her, and not just a little. They hurt her badly.

Chastity’s hands shoot back to knock mine away, and she turns around so fast she slips a little.

I grab her arm to steady her, and then our gazes lock. “What happened?” But even as I ask the question, I realize that I already know.

“The night Zach and I got in trouble,” she stammers. “We both got the lash. I know it’s hideous. There’s a reason I never wear bathing suits.”

“Holy shit, Chass.” I reach for her again, but she sidesteps me as best she can in the confined space. That’s when I get a clue and raise my hands in submission. “I’m sorry. I won’t touch it if you don’t want me to.”

She crosses her arms in front of her perfect chest. “Maybe we’re done here?”

I wrecked it. I ruined the moment completely. “There’s a towel right on the rack for you. I just need thirty more seconds.”

“Thanks.”

She steps out of the tub, and I quickly rinse myself. When I shut off the water, she’s already gone. I grab a towel and hurry back to my room, where Chastity is donning her skirt.

“Hey, wait half a second,” I say as I drip water onto the wood floor. “Where are you going?”

“I should go home,” she says, securing her bra.

“No, you really shouldn’t,” I argue, crossing to my dresser. “It’s late. And cold.” I don’t want to take her back to the dorm right now, but it’s not just laziness on my part. I’d never send Chastity packing after what we just shared. Or anyone else for that matter. “Come on. Come to bed. I’ll give you a T-shirt. When’s your first class tomorrow?”

“Ten,” she says, licking her lips uncertainly.

“Perfect. Me too.” I pull a Shipley Farms T-shirt out of the drawer. “You can go if you want. But I’d rather you put this on and come to bed with me.”

“Okay,” she says after another beat. “I wasn’t sure you’d want me to stay.”

“Of course I want you to stay.” But this is the tricky stuff, isn’t it? This is why sleeping with good friends is scary.