Page 26 of The Great Dating Fake Off
Nora
A girl could get used to state-of-the-art resort amenities. After a long and stressful day, an empty gym and a fancy shower replete with luxurious soaps are just what the doctor ordered.
Fluffy white towel wrapped around my squeaky-clean body, I practically skip to The Sapling Spa’s steam room and hold up my key to the card reader. An audible sigh of joy slips from my mouth as I step inside the wooden door. Wet heat clings to my skin.
“Great minds think alike.”
Startling, I glance sideways. Sebastian is about four feet away, sitting on the bench that wraps around the whole room. The towel wrapped around his waist seems small, even though it’s the same kind I’m wearing, branded with the Foxfire Lodge logo. His chestnut hair appears finger-raked and falls in a thick wave. Sweat glistens on his face, the mountain scene inked on his strong arm, and the skin of his bare torso.
“Great minds indeed.” I squeeze the handle of my small plastic pool bag. I can’t just turn around and leave. That would be even more awkward than sitting here half naked.
And I can’t sit on the other side of the room. The steam isn’t thick enough to obscure the space yet, so we’d just be staring at each other.
Resolved, I walk in his direction. We’ll say our hellos and then I’ll read until he leaves. Hallelujah for my waterproof Kindle.
My heels click against the stone floor. “Is this bench taken?”
He straightens in his seat, caramel eyes boring into me. “Is it okay to be alone in a steam room with someone other than our dates?”
I purse my lips. What’s “okay” in our situation is a mystery fit for queen Agatha Christie to solve. “It’s a ghost town out there this late, so I doubt anyone is coming in.” I take a step back toward the door. “But if you’d rather be alone—”
“I don’t,” he says firmly. “Stay if you want.”
Electricity zips up my spine as I perch beside him, leaving a respectable three feet or so. The hot bench bites at the back of my knees. The only sound is steam pouring out of wall nozzles in a quiet hiss.
The heat intensifies as my muscles begin to loosen up. I retrieve my Kindle from my zippered bag and scoot back to get comfortable. I don’t want Sebastian to think he needs to entertain me. My fairy fantasy book can do that job for now.
I’m not sure if it’s been five seconds or five minutes when he interrupts the silence. “I guess you can’t wear your glasses in here.”
I peer sideways in time to catch his dark eyes perusing me. My stomach flips at the careful way his gaze lingers on my face. “I use contacts for workouts, which is usually the only time I can stand to wear them. They dry my eyes out.”
“Are you sure this heat isn’t bad for contacts?”
I raise my brows and lower the Kindle to my lap. “Is that your gentle way of telling me to get lost? I thought we settled this.”
The sound from his mouth is almost a laugh. “What? No. I don’t know how they work, so I was worried.” His tone takes a gruff turn. “Forget I mentioned it.”
His concern flicks open the latch on whatever was containing my butterflies.
I know he’s paying attention only because he’s got nothing else to do, but I can’t help the fluttering in my chest. It’s nice to be fretted over, even in this small way. “That was nice of you. Worrying about me.”
He crosses his arms. “What are you reading, anyway?”
Something tells me Lethally Bound, book four in the Fae Shadow Daddies series, won’t ring any bells for him. “Oh, just War and Peace.”
A dimple carves itself in his cheek as he scoots closer an inch. “Really? My dad loves that book. I store a few of his special editions on my shelf.”
I chuckle under my breath. “I’m not really reading War and Peace, Sebastian. But I love that you guys collect special editions.” I gather my legs under me and angle to face him so I can see him better. “Now that I’m settled in my apartment, I’ve started building a collection of favorites. It’s an addicting hobby.”
“That feels right, given what you do for a living.” He runs his hand through his hair. The thick mess sticks straight up in this humidity. “It’s odd that our paths didn’t cross sooner back home. Did you go to Islip High? Wait— How old are you?”
“Twenty-seven. You?”
“Thirty. Where are you from?”
A reluctant smile tugs at my lips. “My mom and I moved a lot.”
He perks up with interest. “Oh yeah? Why?”
