Page 39 of Something Spontaneous

“How far of a walk is it to the garage?” Grace asks as we pass the diner.

“You didn’t stop there when you came to town for the wedding?”

She quirks a brow at me. “I was here for the wedding, and thankfully, our rental car didn’t break down. So no, it was a day trip to Taos, drinks at The Hatch, staying at The Silver Peak, and then almost-wedding festivities.”

“Yeah, I guess a repair shop isn’t on most people’s list of must-see destinations when they visit. Anyway, it’s up here,” I say, pointing at the next street corner past the drugstore. I’m glad it’s a short walk because we aren’t exactly dressed for a stroll around town. Up until now, I’ve mostly covered myself up, but Grace and I were apparently on the same page, as always, dressing to take full advantage of the warm weather today. We’re in spandex gym shorts, sports bras, and the always fashionable crew socks and hiking boots combination. Our height difference helps because the same outfit looks way more revealing on her than it does me. I’m glad we aren’t in sync so much that we wore matching colors—I opted for simple black, while Grace went bright and colorful, just like her rainbow-streaked hair.

We get closer, and I bask in the desert sun and crisp air until I hear Sisi’s laugh. It’s followed by a deep, frustrated groan that could only come from one person. I guess I’m going to face down Sly only hours after those stupid kisses after all.

I need to remind myself that my time in Sterling Springs is temporary, and while I’m here, I should be making the most of patching things up with Sisi and Maribel, who have been surprisingly welcoming.

“I still can’t believe this is where you grew up,” Grace says, shaking her head.

I shrug, not sure exactly what to say. I know she said she’d get over it, and I have no doubt she will, but guilt still gnaws at me. I feel like I’ve let her down.

“Yeah. Believe me, it’s been weird being back here. Some things have changed, but the town and people still feel the—” I nearly swallow my tongue at the sight that greets me when I turn at the corner of Silver Street and Second Street. I’m positive my brain is malfunctioning. I don’t know when, if ever, I’ll be able to form words again.

“Oh, hey, ladies,” Sisi says with a little wave when she spots us.

“Hey,” I say meekly, waving back before Grace bounds to her side.

It’s not Sisi that has me rendered speechless. It’s her brother, who’s washing his car—shirtless. The scene is like something out of a frat house car wash fundraiser, except Sly is one-hundred percent man next to his vintage muscle car.

I’m probably going cross-eyed because I don’t know where to look. He’s facing away from us, giving me a full view of exactly how much he’s grown into his giant frame. His back is a treasure trove of toned lats and boulder shoulders that I felt under his shirt last night. Every time he scrubs the hood of his car, his muscles all ripple in a sinful display that makes me want to touch him and feel his warmth again.

I guess I found Exhibit C of unpredictable things I love. Although I’m not sure love is the exact word I would use to describe my view right now. Insatiable lust, with a side of apparently unresolved feelings—sure. Love, I’m not even sure I’m capable of that anymore, much less for him after our history. Still, shirtless Sly is something I love to look at because—well—he’s outrageously attractive. Actually, I think it would be hard not to look at him.

Sly leans out over the hood again. My eyes are immediately drawn to his muscular sides and the hint of his ribs peeking through his taut skin. When he grabs a towel and starts polishing part of the bumper, all I can see is a blur of well-tanned biceps and triceps.

Sly stands, turning to face us and it only gets worse. My eyes slowly work down from his hard pecs, following the trail of dark hair down the center of his torso, and settle lower—where his abs dive into the waistband of his sweats. The way a little puff of soap suds cling to his stomach gives a new definition to the term ‘washboard abs’.

Then my gaze lands on Exhibit D: Sly’s dick print in his stupid Slutty McSlutterson gray sweats.

It reminds me of how hard he was last night when I climbed into his lap. My mouth goes dry just thinking about it. So much for blocking those feelings out of my head because they all flood back to the front of my mind. It reminds me that I haven’t physically been with another person in nearly a year; my cam work is always solo. While I’ve made out with a few guys, I haven’t slept with anyone. After tasting Sly’s lips last night, every hour I spend in this town is another opportunity I have to make a bad decision.

Yeah, I’m definitely going to be prone to poor decisions if he’s going to put on a display like this. My rational side and my inner-needy-horny-bitch are heading for a collision that I need to avoid.

My mind’s conflict with what my eyes are seeing comes from the fact that it is him, and all the emotional baggage that comes with the boy who dumped me right before I left for college. That boy—now, clearly a man—discarded me like I was nothing, after years of being inseparable and dreaming of a life together. That’s what he said, ‘This was all nothing, Josie. We’re dumb kids. You need to move on.’

And that’s what makes my body’s unpredictable reaction to him so infuriating. Kissing him last night was absolutely a mistake, and I did my best to convince him—or myself at least—that those kisses meant nothing. I needed that to be true. Unfortunately, I think I failed.

All I want to do is see what those toned and sudsy muscles feel like against the palms of my hands. I want to see if his heart still pounds the same way if I kissed his collarbone or if he’d still suck in a breath if I traced my thumb over his ribs.

Grace and Sisi’s voices eventually draw me from my trance. I’ve been staring so long that I’m surprised he hasn’t whistled and made some kind of joke about how his ‘eyes are up here’.

Thankfully, I’m spared that humiliation, and I’m not going to question that. My friends are busy chatting away about our hike, and for the most part seem to be completely oblivious to yet another internal meltdown of mine. Other than one quick sidelong glance from Grace, I doubt they’ve noticed me eye-fucking Sly while simultaneously hating myself for it.

It’s when I finally manage to pry my gaze off Sly’s body and our eyes meet that alarm bells blare in the back of my mind. His normally clenched jaw is slack, and his face pales like he’s seen a ghost. Those blue eyes that mirror the crystal-clear sky around us slowly roam down my body, leaving a trail of heated skin in their wake. I’ve seen hunger in Sly’s eyes before, and I know what it looks like because I saw it last night.

The look in his eyes right now… that is something entirely different.

It’s not hostile. It’s teetering somewhere squarely between shock and appreciation. I don’t know what this look is, but I know I don’t want to stay under this much scrutiny from him any longer. Even with Sisi and Grace still blabbing on only feet away, it feels like we’re the only two people for miles.

This much attention is only adding to my lust for him, and that’s already at dangerous levels. I can feel my tightened nipples, and I know my piercings are visible through my sports bra. I hate those damn cups that bunch up every time I do my laundry, so I always take them out and never put them back in, but now I feel exposed without them. It’s rare for me to feel self-conscious. I literally make sexy videos for a living, but his scrutiny has me ready to do anything to make this silence between us end.

“You know a picture will last longer,” I say, plastering on a smirk to feign confidence.

He stiffens like I caught him doing—well, the same thing I was doing to him, and I catch the stupefied look on his face.