Page 52 of For Crosby

He nodded. “No one else is on the floor. But I’ll leave my door open so I can hear if anyone shows up.” He walked to his closet and grabbed a towel. “Here.” He tossed it to me.

I caught it and grabbed the clothes and shower supplies I had waiting beside me. Clutching them to my chest, I walked to the door, making sure not to brush into any part of him as I stepped into the hallway. If my thoughts the previous night were any indication, the sight of him all wet from a shower was setting off major warning signs. “Be back in a few.”

He nodded, quickly turning away from me.

I hurried into the girls’ shower room. The six-stalled room was empty and silent. Finally, I could breathe. I could think straight. I switched on the water. The spray drowned out the silence, but in no way stopped the inappropriate thoughts from running through my brain.

I needed to leave. I needed to head home. If I stayed, whatever happened between us had disaster written all over it. The water continued to cascade over my body, washing Crosby’s scent off me with each passing minute.

As the minutes ticked on, my mind taunted me with visions I wanted to suppress. Me on top of him at the rink. His strong body beneath mine. His arms wrapped tightly around me. His raspy laughter. I shivered at the thoughts. Or maybe it was the water turning colder since I’d been hiding in the shower for so long.

Eventually, I switched off the knob and reached for the towel hanging outside my stall, wrapping it around me as I stepped out. It smelled like Crosby. That fresh woodsy scent—the one I now realized was all his—enveloped me. I closed my eyes and breathed it in. In such a short time, it had become so familiar and comfortable.

Shit, shit, shit.

I needed to refocus.

I dragged my fingers through my wet hair, eliminating the knots as I walked to the changing area where I’d left my clothes.

A knock on the door stilled me.

“Sabrina?” Crosby called through the door.

“Yeah.”

“You okay? You’ve been gone a while.”

The concern in his voice caused unwanted ripples to swell in my belly. “Fine,” I called, before listening for his footsteps to walk away. They didn’t.

“Can I come in?” The gruffness in his voice, mixed with his question, sent heat coursing through my body.

“Ummm. Okay.”

The door opened slowly until Crosby stood in the doorway looking exactly as he had when he returned from his shower. Why hadn’t he gotten dressed? Why was he there? His eyes moved over my towel-covered body, his appraisal slow and purposeful as the door closed behind him. We were alone. Very alone.

I swallowed hard. “Everything okay?”

The silence was deafening as he took two steps closer to me. “How long are we gonna do this?”

“Do what?” I asked, though my heartbeat speeding in my chest told me I already knew the answer.

He took another step. Then another. Until he stood in front of me. He was a head taller, so I lifted my head back to meet his gaze. “I am trying so hard to be good.”

A cacophony of thoughts rushed through my head, none making much sense.

Dammit.

Crosby reached up and brushed his thumb over my cheek, leaving a numbness in its wake. “But all I can smell in my room is you,” he said, his voice hushed.

My pulse hastened.

“All I can think about in my bed is you.”

I blinked, swallowing down hard.

He stepped forward, causing me to step back into the cool tiled wall behind me. I sucked in a deep breath as he caged me in with his hands on the wall. “And all I want to do is kiss you.”

My eyes dropped to his lips. God, they were glistening and perfect.

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