Page 20 of Bare
Her thighs tingled. Her core clenched. This was the time to say something coy and flirty. Something funny and suggestive.
Instead, she blurted out the thought dancing on the edges of her mind. “You don’t actually live here, do you?”
He paused, gray eyes wide, beer partially raised. Then he smiled widely and pushed the icy can into her hand. “I do live here. Just not often.”
His answer was so quick. Had she imagined the hesitation?
“I changed jobs a couple of years ago and work in DC now. I have an apartment down there and rent this place out on VRBO. I’m off for a couple of weeks and decided to spend the time in Philly since I haven’t been back in a while.”
She took a sip of the crisp, citrusy, slightly bitter liquid and then set it on a pewter coaster with stars and the year 1776circling the edges. “I’m going to use the restroom. It’s just back there, right?”
He lifted his beer toward the hall at the far end of the kitchen. “Up those two stairs. It’s the first door on the right.”
As soon as she got inside the bathroom, she collapsed against the door, snippets of her various conversations with Aleksei whirling in her mind. She’d been sure he lived in Philly, but had he ever actually said that? Why hadn’t he told her he lived in DC? He’d said he was a consultant, but she didn’t know where he worked or what he consulted on. Did she really know anything about him?
Her heart was beating too fast. Her breathing was erratic.
And she was being ridiculous.
She kicked her flats off, the tile cold on her bare feet. She envisioned roots extending from her toes and heels down through the floors, through the concrete foundation, and into the earth. Calm flowed through her. Her heart rate and breathing settled. Logic returned.
She was being paranoid.
They’d had two dates. He’d directed a lot of the conversation toward her, which was polite and showed he was interested in her. He was smart, witty, and handsome. No. Not just handsome. His face could launch ships...but her ship wasn’t going to even get out of the harbor if she didn’t stop freaking out over nonsense.
Her illnesses had kept her isolated so frequently that her meter for normal social interaction was skewed. She was panicking over nothing. If she wanted to know more about Aleksei, she needed to get her ass back out there and ask. And if she wanted him to be honest about himself, she was going to have to be honest about herself, too.
* * *
Aleksei pulled some junk mail from the basket next to the fireplace, crumpled it, then used a poker to push it under the logs, ramping up the flames. He added kindling and paper until he was satisfied with the burn. As he rose from his crouched position, Rosemary returned to the living room. He’d dimmed the lights, and the white strands that punctuated her blonde hair flashed in the firelight.
She grabbed her beer and settled on the couch, angling her back to the armrest and curling her legs up under her. She pulled the green knit throw his mom had given him off the back of the couch and smoothed it over her lap. As he watched Rosemary’s pale hands, with their short, unadorned nails, arrange the blanket, the image of her sister’s long, red nails flashed through his mind. He preferred Rosemary’s simple, subtle sexuality. Maybe it was the outdoorsman in him. Long nails weren’t practical when fishing and camping.
She took a healthy swig of her IPA, closed her eyes, and released a satisfied “mmm.” The beer left her full pink lips wet and shiny. There was nothing simple or subtle about her lips. Her mouth was the stuff teenage boys dreamed about. Obviously, grown men did too since he’d been thinking about that mouth on him since the first time he laid eyes on her.
He’d smiled more in the hours he’d spent with Rosemary than he had in the past year. How could he not? The joy with which she embraced life was infectious. She was a woman who made the most of every moment. He liked how she settled in and made herself at home on his couch. He liked that she ate and drank with gusto. He liked how she savored his favorite beer like it was a fine wine. He liked how she’d leaned into his musical comment that very first night and danced on the stairs in public.He liked that she openly shared whatever was on her mind. He liked that she had strong muscles and soft curves and the most compelling lips he’d ever laid eyes on.
“Chain Reaction,” she said, reading the beer label aloud. “This is awesome.” She looked at the label again. “Thin Man Brewery. Is that around here? I’d like to check it out.”
Of course, she would. Just one more thing to like about her.
He confirmed that the fire was in good shape, then walked over and sat down next to her on the couch, picking up and taking a long drink of his own beer. He loved the hints of pineapple, passionfruit, and berry that balanced the dankness of the IPA.
“The brewery is in Buffalo, so it’d have to be a road trip. Luckily, a local place carries the brand, so I can get it here.”
He lifted the part of the blanket pooled between them, spreading it over his own lap. “Mind if I share?”
Pink tinged her cheeks and neck as she nodded affirmatively.
Did she blush everywhere? Would her breasts and thighs turn that bright, rosy pink when she came?
His cock instantly responded to the thought, and he shifted on the couch, trying to get comfortable in pants that suddenly felt too tight.
“Am I crowding you?” she asked.
“No. All good. Just still recovering a bit from that strong right knee of yours.”
“I’m sorry...” she started.
