Page 72 of Still Love You

What am I saying? That's going to me someday. Working all the time. Not sleeping. Stressed. I've told myself I'm okay with that but sometimes I'm not sure that I am, especially at times like this, when I'm here at home, relaxed and hanging out with my family. And Silas. I smile because he just walked in.

"Hey." He smiles. "Everything ready?"

He's wearing jeans and a light blue t-shirt that looks really soft. It makes me want to snuggle up to him and rub my hands over his chest. 

I snap out of it when I feel his hands on my shoulders. He's now standing behind me and I tilt my head back to see him. "I told my mom you wouldn't show up."

"As usual, you were wrong."

My dad chuckles. "Those are fighting words, Silas. Willow doesn't like being wrong."

"Yeah." I reach back and whack his arm. "And I bet I wasn't wrong. You're probably just here for dinner and then you'll leave."

"Wrong again. I'm staying here until we're done." He rubs my shoulders. "How much of this lotion stuff are we making?"

"We're not doing lotions. We decided to make soaps tonight." I close my eyes as he massages my shoulders. "That feels awesome. My shoulders are killing me from all that strawberry picking."

"You could take tomorrow off," my dad says as he takes stuff out of the fridge.

"That's okay. I'll be fine by tomorrow."

I like being at the farm. Today was a lot of work and I'm exhausted, but it felt good to help out. And from the strawberry fields I had a great view of Silas, his biceps flexing as he dug holes and pulled weeds. Late afternoon he took his shirt off and after that I didn't get much work done. I pretty much just ate strawberries and watched his muscles flex, the sweat glistening off them. It's kind of pathetic, I know, but it's not every day you get a view like that.

"I'm going to go make the pizzas," my dad says as he carries the ingredients outside.

"Your dad's making dinner?" Silas asks.

"Yeah. He's grilling pizzas. My mom doesn't have time to make dinner. She's too busy getting ready for our soap-making marathon. You sure you want to do this? Because you really don't have to."

"I want to. I've always had this burning desire to make my own soap."

I laugh. "You'll have to take a bar home with you. Test it out."

He leans down by my ear. "Why don't we test it out together? This weekend?"

My heart races and I shiver, his breath tickling my ear. "Stop it," I whisper, smiling.

"Yes or no?"

I close my eyes to get my composure back, but instead I see images of Silas and me in the shower. We've showered together exactly three times and I remember every single detail. The way his hands felt sliding down my skin. His wet lips kissing me. The hot steam surrounding our naked bodies.

"Yes," I blurt out.

"Really?" He sounds shocked as he takes the seat next to mine.

I shake my head. "No. Sorry. I didn't mean that."

"Too late." He's grinning. "You already agreed to it."

"I didn't—"

"Did your dad get dinner going?" My mom walks in.

"Yeah. He's outside at the grill."

"I think we'll eat out on the patio since we have all our supplies spread out on the table." She smiles at Silas. "You showed up. Willow was sure that you wouldn't."

"She was—"

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