Overcoming Fear (Growing Pains #2)(21)

Sean smiled in relief, looking down on her.

“You reacted quickly,” she said with appreciation, hugging her now-wet body.

“All you had to do was stand up,” he laughed. “C’mon, let’s get somewhere warm.”

Through chattering teeth Krista said, “Warm is good.”

On their way to the house, as Krista was feeling more like an icicle than a human, she noticed Sean was walking normally, the cold apparently not affecting him. He swam in the ocean often as a surfer, it was true, but he had a wetsuit for that.

“How are you not cold?” she asked through chattering teeth. They were walking to his house, for which she was thankful. It was closer.

“I am. But I’m the man. I’m not supposed to show cold.”

“Do men just sit around and create man-code for stupid things? Is it, like, a one-upper fest when these rules get created? One guy says, ‘A man does not cry.’ And a second guy says, ‘Well, except when at a funeral.’ And the first one says, ‘No, not even then. A man is strong. Only women cry, and women are weak. A man is not weak. He does not cry.’ Then another guy, who probably has a bigger pee-stick, says, ‘Except when drunk. When drunk, a man may cry, but only for the dead, or the lost.’ Then the circle of men nod their head, because that sounds like a good hedge, and enter it into the man log. That about it?”

They were in Sean’s house at that point. Sean ushered Krista into a dining area just outside the kitchen.

“You have too much time on your hands,” Sean said, laughing. “But I am cold, so please excuse me.”

She didn’t realize that was his introduction to strip down to his boxer briefs.

She looked away quickly when her groin gave a worrying lurch. She remembered those big, muscular shoulders and torso, but she hadn’t seen it tuck down into those trim h*ps and then explode into two powerfully built legs. He was spectacular. And he was nearly naked. Two steps. Two steps away, then she could actually touch him. It was too close.

She needed to go home.

“Oh holy moly,” she muttered as she accidentally looked down that body, past the beginning of his fire-engine red boxer briefs, to his sizable package. It was cold, it should have been small—right? Wasn’t that how it worked?

Sean looked at her when she spoke, saw her looking at him like a man-eating lion, and got beet red.

“You must not do that, Daniel-san,” Krista said, turning away sheepishly. “I have been without for too long.”

“I thought you had a booty call to ease your…tension?” Sean said as clothes rustled.

“I cut him loose. It felt wrong. Then it felt really wrong when he said he loved me.”

“Hmmm.”

“Don’t ‘hmmm’ me. I was up-front the whole time. From day one. And I reminded him periodically.”

“I always did, too. You know, when I was in my womanizing days?” He paused to let the allegation sink in. “And you never caught on that he had feelings for you?”

“No! Absolutely not. Not really. I always thought he was on the same page. Mostly.”

“I always thought so, too. Mostly.”

Krista turned around in anger, “What—“

Sean was butt naked. He was grabbing a pair of sweats, confident that she wouldn’t peek.

There was no problem with shrinkage. His very large man parts were in full view. Krista flinched, then squeaked, then turned around again, hoping he didn’t notice.

“Peeping Tom.”

“If you don’t want me to peek, don’t rile me up! Or change in your room! Back to the topic at hand, what guy wouldn’t be happy in that situation? Men are always saying that is the ideal situation! I have been dumped for that reason. More than once!”

“Ideal for twenty-one-year-old men, maybe. But you are a catch. The guy probably thought you would come around.”

“I don’t know about catch, but yeah, that’s what he thought. His own fault.”

“My line every time.”

“Can I turn around now?”

“You haven’t already?”

Krista turned to see him looking at her with a knowing smile. She narrowed her eyes and balled her fists. “I was completely up front about it! Completely up front. The whole time! How is that my fault?”

“The same way it’s my fault when I do the same thing. At least, so you would have me believe. A certain label you affix me with comes to mind.”

“Everyone puts that label on you!” It was out before she realized it. Pain flashed across his face. He didn’t try to cover it up.

“I know,” he said quietly, and tossed her a pair of sweats and a shirt.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that,” she took off her sopping wet shirt.

“I know people say it. And once, not very long ago, it was true.”

Not thinking, she stripped out of her sweats and down to her panties, which were lots bigger than her bathing suit—she had to do laundry—so she wasn’t concerned about exposure. Just a little embarrassed about Granny-Panties.

“I haven’t been with Monica since that one night,” Sean admitted. “I could have been. Guilt free, I could have. But I didn’t.” He turned around, giving her a chance to change.