Page 67 of Xavier

I should have done something sooner. I should have forced her to come outside with me. Hell, maybe even working out would have been better than leaving her alone in a foreign bedroom.

“Would you like to come sit on the couch with me?”

If I can get her out of bed, it will be a miracle.

“Not really. I’m comfortable here.”

I kind of miss the snarky spitfire that she once was. I miss her sarcastic remarks and the way her eyes darken as she stares at me, like I’m the juiciest steak she’s ever laid eyes on.

I need to do something. Anything.

I stand abruptly, causing her to let out a tiny yelp.

“Get dressed.” It’s more of a demand than a request.

“No. There’s no point.”

“Of course there is. I’m tired of seeing you like this, and I’m tired of wasting my summer.”

“Sorry I’m a waste of your summer.” She grumbles and rolls over so she doesn’t have to look at me.

“That is not what I meant, and you know it.” I fling the covers off of her, gasping when my gaze lands on her long, exposed legs.

She’s not wearing pants, or shorts, for that matter. Her ass is barely covered by the sexiest pair of tiny lacy shorts I’ve ever seen.

She rolls over, not bothering to cover herself back up.

“Well, what did you mean?”

“We’re taking a risk and leaving this house. We need to get out, breathe fresh air, and have fun.”

She sits up and smiles, excitement etched on her face.

“Do we have time for a quick shower?”

“We? Shower?” My brain short circuits as I process what she just asked.

My heart skips a beat at the thought of showering with her.

She playfully smacks my bare chest before scrunching up her face. “I wasn’t meaning for us to shower together. I feel gross, and you smell like you’ve been in the gym for hours.”

I know it’s the right decision to not shower with her, but I can’t help the pang of disappointment that spreads through me.

Tiny scraps of her old spunky self peek through. Her touch leaves my heart racing, but I manage to say, “I have been. I needed to burn off all the cooped up tension.”

I make it seem like the tension is from being stuck inside the house, but it’s more sexual than boredom.

Her gaze moves down my face to my chest, my abs, the waistband to my sweatpants.

I swallow as her blue eyes cloud and darken.

She likes what she sees.

A goofy ass grin forms on my face. I love that she loves looking at me. Decades of hard work have paid off.

Her gaze snaps back to mine as I chuckle.

“Are you rethinking the separate showers stance?” I tease.

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