Left Drowning(64)

Now he’s embarrassing me. I wasn’t the slightest bit uncomfortable having him do significantly more intimate things than pay me a compliment, but he’s being ridiculous. “Stop it.”

“Seriously. I mean, I’d love your body no matter what, but I have to admit that running has made you even more …” His gaze follows the path of his hands as they travel over me, and I have to look away. “Look at you. These legs, and this waist.” His hands sneak under me. “And this gorgeous ass.”

“Chris …”

“It’s true.” He sits up, puts a hand on the back of my neck and strokes my cheek with his thumb, and then rolls a lock of my hair over his finger. “And these beautiful curls … Face it. You’re gorgeous.”

“You’re a dope.” I squeeze his arm and touch his perfect chest. “And look who’s talking. You’re a block of muscle.” Then he lets me move my fingers over his face while I take in how extraordinary he is. “These stunning green eyes, and this disgustingly perfect masculine jawline.”

“Now you’re being a dope.”

I lean in and rub my nose against his. “And this adorable nose.”

“Now you’ve lost it.” I can tell he doesn’t like his crooked nose, but he kisses me anyway. “Hey, Blythe?”

“Yeah?”

“We’re good, you and me? This doesn’t feel, you know, weird to you, does it?”

“No, it doesn’t. We’re completely good. I know what this is, and what this isn’t, just like you do.”

He nods, and we’re quiet for a minute. “Since we’re going to be in this hotel for a few more days, maybe we could … ”

“Yes. I think we definitely could.” Thank God. I’m not done with him by a landslide. I still have a lot of catching up to do.

“What are we going to tell them?” he asks with a smile.

“Your family?’

“Yup.”

“I have no idea. That we’re going to f*ck each other’s brains out for a few days and that they can just deal with it?”

“That may be more descriptive than they’ll need.”

“Or we can tell them nothing and hope they don’t walk in on us.”

“I like the sound of that.” He tickles me under the arms and tosses me onto the bed. “But first, we need food. I was on my way to dinner when … You know.”

“When I assaulted you in the hallway?”

“Yes, exactly.” He grabs my hand and pulls me out of bed. Chris throws on his jeans and grabs the room service menu before he starts to lead me to the couch that overlooks the city.

“Hold on, I’m grabbing a robe.”

“No! No clothes!”

I laugh but go to the bathroom and retrieve the soft white robe that is hanging there for guests. I shut the bifold doors by the tub. I may have just done a lot of things with Chris that I’ve never done with anyone else, but I don’t plan on having him watch me pee be the next one.

By the time I’m out of the bathroom, Chris is sitting on the edge of the oversize chair and ordering food for us. I sit down behind him, clasp my hands together over his stomach, and lean my head against his back. I listen to the rumble of his deep voice as he orders. He looks back, and I nod that the order is fine. I’m starving now. “Yeah, charge it to room 2021,” he says and hangs up. “Dinner’s on me.”

“Chris, you don’t have to do that.”

I bring my right hand to his back as he hangs up, and I pull away to admire again how toned and strong he is. And while he is these things, he is also vulnerable like we all are, proven by the two significant scars on his back. A broken line that starts from just below his left shoulder and ends midway down the right side of his back, a space of probably four inches or so between them.

I don’t really know if this is really one scar or two. I remember how he threw a shirt on by the lake, and suspect now that he was covering his scars the way I often cover my own. I realize that even though Chris and I have been plenty naked with each other, this is the first time I’ve seen or touched his scars, almost as if my hands knew where not to go while we were intimate. The texture is familiar to me because his scars feel like mine. He stiffens slightly as I touch his skin, and I understand this all too well. I tighten my hold around his waist, letting him know this is not a big deal.

He takes a deep breath. “Sorry. I totally forgot. That probably sounds crazy.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. You know that.” I pat my left hand against his stomach, reminding him that I really do understand.

I’m still touching his scars. For some reason this is not a question that I want to ask, but I do anyway. “How did you get these?”

He takes my left hand in his and looks out at the view. The buildings are lit up and showing us a deep blue night sky. “Ugh, a skiing accident when I was a kid. The tips of skis are sharper than you think.”

I cringe. “Ow.”

“Ow, indeed.” As he pulls me onto his lap, he nods to the window. “Stellar view, huh?”

I look at him. “It certainly is.”

He smiles. “And this chair is very comfortable.” Chris moves his hand inside my robe, just under my breast.