Page 66 of Unexpected

She gave me an update on her writing every day. She was writing thousands of words a day and had already begun outlining her next book. Even over the phone and through texts, her excitement about what she was creating was palpable. She still wouldn’t tell me anything about the plot or any other details besides how it was going, but I was supportive of anything that kept the fucking breathtaking smile on her face.

Before I had a chance to respond, she texted again.

Hazel: What are your plans for the night?

I contemplated my response only for a second before I began typing.

Me: Well, I’m currently enjoying the view outside of my bedroom window.

It was a ballsy text and could have sounded incredibly creepy. But that’s not how I meant it. I didn’t intentionally leave my curtains open and I’m sure she didn’t either.

She reached for her phone, another smile pulling at the corners of her mouth before it suddenly dropped, and she slowly swiveled her head to peer out of her window.

Okay, yeah, it was a little fucking creepy.

I gave her my best noncreepy smile and waved. For a long moment, she didn’t move. She was frozen with her water bottle held to her perfectly pouty lips and her phone in her other hand. She held my stare without moving for far too long, I started to believe I had genuinely fucked up.

I typed out a quick message and hit send.

Me: I wasn’t trying to be creepy. I swear. I was just getting out of the shower and saw you.

My text had her attention, and she finally pulled her eyes away from my own. She hopped off of her bed and set her water bottle on the dresser across from her. Her head was tilted down as she read my message and typed what I hoped would be a response back. I wanted to read her facial expression, but she kept her face averted.

I anxiously watched my phone, my eyes flitting back and forth from Hazel to my dark screen. When the text finally came through, I let out a deep breath and opened it.

Hazel: If it were anyone else, it might have been creepy… and not sure you know or not, but your towel is WAY too small for you. I can see a lot even from over here

I read the text once and then a second time before looking up to find Hazel staring at me with her bottom lip pulled between her teeth. And although I wasn’t as close as I wanted to be, I believed it was barely restrained desire flaming in her eyes.

AndGod,did I want to burn in it.

TWENTY-SIX

Luke

Hazel’slong brown hair was pulled back at the top of her head, and the sheen of sweat still lingering on her skin—especially over her chest that was close to spilling out of her damn bra—was mesmerizing. I wanted to taste the salty tang of her sweat mixed with the sweetness of her skin as I memorized every curve and dip of her body with my tongue.

I inched closer to the window, not worrying too much when the towel separated a little more. Just another half an inch and she would see exactly how hard she made me by doing almost nothing.

Her eyes stayed locked on my face for an extra second before they ran down my naked chest and towel-clad waist.

I craved to be closer to her. I wanted to know if her breath quickened when she saw the way my cock tented the towel or if her heart was beating out of her fucking chest like mine felt like it was about to.

I needed to see the desire flare behind her eyes—I’d only had a little taste of it before. My only sign that I was affecting her was the quickened rise and fall of her chest. There was also the way she twisted her legs together to relieve some of the pressure likely growing there and how she couldn’t look away from me.

Me: Glad to know I’m not the only one staring. You look so good right now. I could lick the sweat right off you.

Once I sent the text, I anxiously waited to watch her response and read her reply. A mischievous grin spread across her face, and I couldn’t help but mimic it with my own.

Hazel: I think I’d like that.

Me: Angel, I know you would like everything I can do with my tongue.

Her hand went to her mouth, trying to hide her reaction and proving that I’d hit my intended mark. I could have immediately thrown up the window and climbed into her bedroom to make good on my promise. I could have even found the sweatpants I had initially been searching for and actually walked out the front door. I could have done a number of things to actually be able to touch her and feel her, which sounded more and more like a good idea as the seconds ticked by. But I didn’t think she was ready.

After what she had gone through with fuckface, her bruises were healing, but the scars were deep. Each interaction we’d had proved that it would be better for her to take it slow. No matter how much it killed me or gave me the bluest fucking balls known to man, I’d wait until she was ready.

Hazel: You know for a fact, huh? Well, maybe one day we can test that theory. But for now…

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