Page 67 of Now and Then

She opens her bedroom door and steps inside. “Good night.”

13

Sutton

The absolute best-worst sound in the entire world is listening to the man I love pleasure himself in the shower. Wait, no, scratch that. It’s listening to him moan my name when he climaxes.

I lean against my bedroom wall that shares a side with the bathroom. The shower runs for a bit longer and finally shuts off. The last dregs of shaving cream forcing their way through a can pierces the air. I mentally add the item to my shopping list.

I picture Hunter lathering his cheeks. Is he naked? Or does he have a towel wrapped around his waist? I press my ear flat against the wall. If I’m going to lurk, I might as well make it worth it. I hear the tapping of a razor against the sink and the splash of water. A buzzing I know belongs to his electric toothbrush comes next, making me think of a different buzzing. The door to the bathroom unlocks, and I peek out the small crack of my barely open door.

Hunter steps into the dimly lit hallway and tilts his head as if hearing something in the distance. Then he drops the white towel on the floor and struts into his room. His firm ass cheeks flex with each step, and I audibly groan.

“You know,” he says, catching me off guard. “You don’t have to hide.”

I suck in a sharp breath. “I am not hide . . . okay, I’m totally hiding. But what the hell else am I supposed to do when I wake up hearing you in the shower?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Could always join me next time.” He winks and disappears out of sight.

I huff and flop onto the bed. I don’t have any idea what I’m doing here—I’m so far out of my element—but I’ll be damned if I’m not intrigued and excited to finally explore things with Hunter. If Greer can be brave despite the hardships in her past and step into the unknown, I can too.

My phone buzzes from the nightstand. I know it’s Greer because she’s the only one of us who’s up before the sun.

Greer: I’m going to leave the brushes and paint trays on the front porch. You can pick them up whenever you want.

Me: Great, thank you!

Me: I’ll swing by this morning on my way to the house.

Greer: You’re not painting by yourself, are you?

Greer: We know what happened to me when I did that.

Me: I’m not going to fall. Plus, everyone is working today.

Greer: Isn’t Hunter off?

My heart picks up speed at the mention of his name. I haven’t told the girls anything about Hunter and me. I know they’ll be happy for us, but I’d like to enjoy a bit of anonymity for a while longer before our relationship becomes public knowledge. If it’s even a relationship. Maybe I’m the only one labeling it that, and Hunter views it as a situationship.

Me: No, he has to work today.

Greer: Be safe and text me if you need anything later. I’ll be done with school around 4.

I heart her response, toss my phone onto the bed, and head to the shower. The bathroom is still thick with steam and the heavy scent of Hunter’s body bar. It’s a hard one to forget—Irish Spring. I could buy him any luxury brands, and he’d still use his tried-and-true products.

I strip down and turn on the water. My bracelets and rings clink when I set them in the glass tray on the counter. I twist my hair high on my head, put on my shower bonnet, and step under the spray. I shower quickly, not wanting to miss Hunter leaving for the day.

I step from the shower, towel wrapped around my body, when there’s a tap tap tap on the bathroom door. My heart flops over, picturing Hunter stalking into the small space, stripping the towel away, and kissing me like he has all the time in the world.

“Sutton?” he calls through the still-closed door. “Can I come in?”

I shout, “Door’s unlocked.”

Hunter opens it, and his jaw drops in sync with mine. He looks incredible in dark wash Wranglers, a teal pearl snap, and his black Stetson. His face is smooth except for his mustache.

Goosebumps cover my body at his blatant appraisal of my towel-clad body. I fidget with the corner and tuck it more firmly underneath the edge of the towel. My body tingles with the intensity of his gaze, remembering the other night.

“Take it off,” he commands.