The wine must be talking. He wouldn’t be saying this to me if he were sober.
“Katelyn’s description of you didn’t do you justice either.” Yes, definitely the wine talking. I bring my glass to my lips and notice that it’s full again. I can’t help but take a drink without removing my eyes from him. I close my eyes and shake my head only to open them again to find him looking at me. He doesn’t let go while he holds my gaze.
He studies me for what seems like an eternity. I’m not sure if I like that I’m under this microscope or not, but one thing I like for sure is that he’s interested. I catch myself looking from his eyes to his lips and before I know it I’m leaning in, and he’s leaning in and we’re inches apart.
I pull away and down the rest of my wine. “I need to clean.” I rush to the sink and start filling it with hot water and probably too much soap. I watch as the soapsuds build into a high tower before I shut off the water. Before I can move, Xander is right behind me, his arms on either side of me and goosebumps rise on the back of my neck from his close proximity. I should feel like he’s invading my personal space, but I don’t. I welcome the wispy warmth of his breath blowing softly on my neck, and I’m fighting the urge to lean back onto his broad chest. He picks up a plate and drops it into the water. Suds fly everywhere and a few land on my face, hitting my nose and lips. I blow them away, but to no avail. I start to laugh and turn around to look at him.
His face is one of happiness. His eyes are sparkling and it makes me wonder what someone has to do to gain that sort of euphoria in life where the simplest little things make you happy. Harrison has it in his life. I want it in mine.
Xander cups my face. My hands immediately find his wrist, and I hang on for what I suspect will be the most amazing kiss ever. His head turns slightly and his nose brushes against mine, not once, not twice, but three times. I lick my lips in anticipation.
“I think I got it,” he says, pulling away.
“What?” I squeak out.
“The soap suds on your nose. I got them.”
I’m dumbfounded as he backs out of the kitchen without taking his eyes off of me.
“See ya later, Yvie,” he says before I’m able to comprehend what the hell just happened. The front door shuts, bringing me back to reality. He totally just played me for a fool, making me believe that the feeling was mutual and that we were on the verge of the kiss to end all kisses. That jerk got me worked up and ditched out.
Revenge will be mine.
Membership has increased at the gym, mostly women from neighboring towns. For the most part, it’s obvious as to why they joined this gym and not one near their homes. It used to bother me until Liam told me to capitalize on it, saying he said he didn’t care and that it was good for business. Harrison is impartial, and JD likes the attention. In fact, I think he, out of the three of them, gets a total kick out of flirting with the women here. I’ve told him to be kind, that they’re likely to get hurt when he winks at them, but he doesn’t listen. You’d never know he’s happily married with a year-old baby at home. He’s all talk and no action.
Hell, action is what I wanted last night, and I have a feeling Yvie would’ve been a willing player. But I’m not like that, and I shouldn’t be with her. Even if she weren’t Harrison’s sister, she’s only here for a week or so and the last thing I want is to start a relationship with someone who lives in a different state. Long distance love affairs and a business like mine just don’t mix. If I allowed myself to, I can see myself being very attached to Yvie. She has some of the qualities that I look for in a woman: she takes care of her body, she’s funny, sexy and can hold my attention fully. She’s a dangerous combination for me right now, and it’s probably best that I keep my distance, keep our budding relationship strictly professional.
I have a feeling that keeping my distance is going to be an issue though. Yvie is going to be at every party and every function I attend in the next few days. I could just stay home. Avoidance has worked in the past. Except, I won’t have a valid excuse when the guys, or even wives, come calling to ask why I’m not there. I’ve been invited, I’ve RSVP’d and it’s not like I have all these offers from people asking me to share the holidays with them.
Staying out of Katelyn’s kitchen is a must though. Memories from last night are very present and each time I start to thin
k about Yvie, I can see her caged against the counter with soap suds on her nose, her chest rising and falling with every breath she takes as her eyes pierce into mine, her pink tongue wetting her lips in anticipation. All I had to do was let my head fall and she would’ve caught me. I could be sitting here blissed out from kissing her. Instead, I’m in the gym sporting a freaking semi and there isn’t jack shit I can do it about it because as far as I’m concerned Yvie James is off limits.
I busy myself behind the computer instead of mingling with the patrons. The counter provides for great coverage of my issue but does nothing to keep my mind from wandering back to last night. I should’ve told Quinn “no thanks” when he invited me in, and I should’ve left as soon as they went to bed. Oh, and the massage definitely shouldn’t have happened, but I couldn’t resist the pull to touch her. I had to curb my appetite from earlier. Watching her work on her glutes, a section of her body that doesn’t need work, drove me nuts, and I had no reason to touch her.
Last night she gave me every reason in the world, and I started to take advantage. I didn’t want to stop, but it wasn’t the time or the place to explore my ballerina… my what? She can’t be my anything.
“What’s up, mate? You look bloody knackered. Did your willy keep you busy last night?” I look up to find JD resting on the counter with a shit-eating grin on his face. Being friends with JD means you can’t take him seriously. At least not all the time because he likes to joke. And by joke, I mean make crude comments at the most inopportune time. That’s what makes him unique.
“Morning, JD,” I say, without acknowledging the rest of his statement.
“A mate who avoids another mate’s question is a surefire way of telling said mate that he got a little last night.”
“He better not have, unless it was after he left my house.” As soon as Harrison finishes that sentence, I look away as my body temperature changes. I hate that I blush like a little boy. My mom assured me I’d outgrow it, but it’s gotten worse. It’s a sign of embarrassment and the last thing I need is for Harrison to catch on that I want to see his sister naked. Not even see her naked, but touch her while she’s naked. I’m all sorts of messed up right now.
“Oh, bloody hell, you stuck your willy in Yvie?”
With the addition of Liam, six eyes now glare at me. If blushing wasn’t telling them something, the fact that I’m tongue-tied is. I clear my throat and stand, thinking about old ladies in granny panties batting their eyes at me without their dentures in, anything to get the semi to go away. Today, gym shorts are not my friend.
“Do you guys want to work out or stand around gossiping like girls?” I ask, as I walk past them.
“I’m more interested in finding out what went on with you and my sister last night. When we came home, she went straight to bed, but failed to explain why there were soap suds in the sink and random soap stains on the countertop and floor.”
“I want to know what he’s doing with Yvie to begin with,” Liam adds in a brotherly I’m-going-to-kick-your-ass-for-looking-at-my-sister tone.
My problem is, if I look at them, they’ll see through me. Avoiding eye contact is what I need to do. “I left when she started doing the dishes,” I say, as I pick up the weight and slide it onto the dumbbell for Liam. Of all the guys, he’s the most serious about weight training. It’s something he kept up from his football days. He’s probably the buffest lead singer out there, and he drives the women crazy when he flexes. I know this because Josie likes to gossip about her husband.
“Did the dishes get done, Harrison?”