Liam Cane had always been gorgeous, there was no getting around it. He’d grown a bit of a beard since they’d moved in together and it had only made him more attractive. She’d managed to ignore her initial attraction for the sake of their friendship, and she couldn’t regret that decision. He was the best friend she’d ever had. Kind. Brilliant. Funny. Easy to talk to.
Lickable. Fuckable.
That was her sex drive talking. The one that was reawakening with a vrooming vengeance after its long hibernation. But Liam deserved better than that. He’d turned his life upside down for her, he shouldn’t have to deal with her naked, needy ass.
The needy ass that was still naked. Shit.
“Liam?”
“Yes, Dani?”
“My towel is right behind you. Could you…?”
“Right. You’re soaked.” He glanced down and his cheeks flushed, lips parting as he took her in.
“Liam.”
“Towel. Got it.” Before she could blink, he had it in his hand and was using it to dry off her back and sides, basically any part of her that wasn’t snugly pressed against him. It was wonderful. It was torture. She needed to stop him. “I-I can dry myself off, thanks.”
“You’re shaking.”
He was taking care of her, the way he always had. Like a sister. Or a stray puppy. Just because his movements were slower than they needed to be, just because his eyes wandered and his knuckles brushed against her skin, didn’t mean he was thinking about sex.
She needed to get herself together. “Of course I’m shaking. I’m cold and wet and I just saw my life flash in front of my eyes. Now hand me that towel and turn around so I can put it on.”
Hesitating for a breathless beat, he finally handed it over and obediently turned his back. Without his gaze on her she could breathe again. What did it say about her that she was still disappointed?
“I had a dream that started just like this,” he mused over his shoulder as she wrapped the towel around her. She was glad he couldn’t see the expression she knew she was wearing.
I had a dream, too. Your face was trapped between my thighs and you were—
She forced out a laugh to stop her train of thought. “The one where Anna Paquin was asking you to wash her back? Yes, I know, dear. You bring it up all the time.”
“I do not,” he muttered. “And if I do, it’s just payback for you making me watch the last three seasons of True Blood in one sitting.”
“You loved it enough to dream about her.”
He turned then, still too close for comfort and staring at the towel as if he could see right through it. “I’m a chef, Shortbread. Girls who look like they live off of celery and air are not my type.”
Dani snorted in disbelief. “Right.”
“Plus, she was way too fickle when you think about it. Make up your mind already. Vampire, werewolf, fairy…”
She smirked, even though she secretly agreed. “The show would have been shorter if she had.”
Was he closer? “True. At least she never tried to get any of them to fall for a spider gag.”
“Listen, friend.” She poked her finger into his chest then had to scramble for the towel as it loosened around her. His jeans scraped her thighs when he reached for the knot at the same time she did and she slapped his hands away. “Stop helping. Why are you like this?”
“I’m being a gentleman while waiting for you to admit you made it up. At least tell me you exaggerated so I don’t have to call pest control and describe an invisible mutant spider with fangs and voyeurism issues.” He was trying to smile, but his voice was noticeably rougher as his palms landed softly on her bare shoulders. “Do you want that?”
Want? What was he asking? “Huh?”
“Do you want me to call them?”
“Yes.” She made a face. “No. But that isn’t because I made it up. I’d just rather the town didn’t know about my shower scene by lunchtime. That’s all.”
He was looking at her cleavage again. “Whatever you need to tell yourself.”
Without his glasses, it was impossible not to be distracted by his sky-blue eyes and thick lashes. What had she wanted to say? Oh. Right. “Does screaming while naked and acting like a helpless idiot sound like something I’d do for fun? Voluntarily, I mean?”
He winced. “Not when you say it like that.”
“Thank you.”
“Wishful thinking,” he murmured. His fingers were caressing her shoulders now, and instead of stopping him she was leaning into it. Wishful thinking? Was he still teasing her? This was spider shock. It had to be.
“I’ll forgive you, since you checked on me,” she said softly, patting his chest and telling herself to step away. “My hero.”
His smile was rueful. “I’m all about heroics. It’s what brings all the girls to the yard.”