Page 14 of Where You Are

“Can I take a shower? I’m caked in chlorine, sweat, and sunblock,” he scoffs at himself with a sheepish smile.

“Oh. Yeah, of course,” I say, moving to the linen closet. I pull out some towels and lay them on the vanity of the bathroom before coming out and gesturing like I’m Vanna freaking White. “All yours,” I say, trying to sound upbeat and casual, like him being wet and naked in the next room will have zero effect on me. Ha! Come to think of it, I’m still in nothing but a t-shirt in front of him, with no undergarments whatsoever. I self-consciously cross my arms over my boobs, but the motion hikes my shirt up my thighs so I drop them, and now my boobs feel exposed andfor fucks sake!Matt just looks me up and down with that sexy smirk of his, enjoying the show. I pull on the bottom hem of my shirt as I turn and head towards the bedroom. “Take your time!” I yell like an ass-clown over my shoulder.

When I get in the bedroom, I pull some sleep shorts out of the top drawer and yank them up my legs, breathing a sigh of relief once I feel the relief of having my ass covered. I hear the shower kick on and my traitorous mind begins to assault me with thoughts of Matt naked under the spray, water droplets creeping across his tanned skin, rolling down his rippled abs. I picture his biceps as he reaches up to slick his wet hair out of his face like he did in the pool, his tattoos blazing. My brain starts to travel down his body to the wonders that await at the base of his delicious V before it threatens to self-destruct.

The pool house has an air conditioning unit, thank God, because all of a sudden I’m flushed and need immediate relief. I sit on the bed and turn the fan on that has pride of place on the bedside table. I lean forward and let its breeze waft over me, blowing the damp strands of hair off my shoulders. I’m only just starting to feel the cooling effects when I hear the water shut off, and it sets my nerves on haywire. He’s about to come out… andthenwhat the hell are we going to do? Kiss? Talk? Get it on? Sit and stare at each other some more?

He leaves me no time to ponder the possibilities when he appears in the bedroom door, shirtless, wet hair hanging in his face, zipping up his shorts, but leaving the top button undone so that they hang low on his hips.

“You’re tired,” he states simply as he gazes down at me. “Let’s sleep.”

Probably a good suggestion, seeing as how I was up early this (yesterday) morning, and have been up for about twenty hours now. But looking at his damp and dewy skin, smelling the fresh clean scent coming off of him, courtesy of the fan wafting it in my direction, and the contented look in those eyes that now resemble the sea off of Scotland’s eastern coast before a storm… the last thing I want to do is sleep.

Matt takes two deliberate but slow strides towards me so that I have no choice but to stare his six-pack in the face, and turns off the bedside table lamp, shrouding the room in darkness, save for the dim light of the pool coming through the blinds. I watch his silhouette move around the bed until it reaches the opposite side before lying down on his back, his face turned towards me. I blow out a shuddery breath as I follow his lead, laying down facing him on my side.

“Just sleep?” I ask.

“Yeah, just sleep.” His voice grumbles out on a tired breath, and it makes me feel a sense of intimacy towards him. “I meant what I said before. I want to spend more time close to you, no matter what we’re doing, so long as I’m near you I’m happy. In fact, here,” he pulls one of the pillows out from behind his head and turns to face me, placing it between us. “I’ll keep my hands completely to myself and just sleep…” he lets out a yawn as he lays an arm on the pillow, “… in the warmth of a beautiful sunbeam.”

I take a moment to marvel on everything happening here. This gorgeous man whom I’ve always kind of felt twinges for, just wants to be near me. He’s my brother’s best friend, now a famous musician. Humble and kind, yet take charge and assertive; protective of everyone around him. And now I find out he’s also a gentleman. I’ve always valued chivalry and manners. It makes a man’s sex factor skyrocket in my book.

I tuck a hand under my chin, and when my eyes move away from his arm to look at his face, I realize he hasn’t even closed his eyes. I rest an arm over the pillow near his and he automatically takes my fingers and laces them with his.

“Tell me your favorite place you visited,” he asks, his voice soft but gravelly. He’s clearly tired himself, but it’s like he needs to be told a story before falling asleep. Add a dash of ‘cute’ to his repertoire. I close my eyes and think for a moment, but it doesn’t take long.

“Anywhere there was an ocean.”

“Well that’s pretty broad,” he smirks.

“I know, but seriously, anywhere that I could be near one was my favorite. I’m just drawn to everything about it.”

“Who are you, Moana?” he chuckles.

“Fan of that movie, are ya?” I toss back with a giggle.

“I have a seven-year-old niece and that movie’s the bomb,” he firmly explains. “So tell me your favorite place where there was ocean nearby.”

“Thailand.”

“What did you love about it?”

“It had these amazing beaches with snug little coves, smooth sand, and beautiful water,” I answer quietly. “But the best thing about it was the people. So easygoing; gentle and giving,” I say, speaking through a yawn.

“So if you could go back to any of the places that’d be it, huh?” Matt asks sleepily, yet I can hear the smile in his voice.

“Yeah. I’d go back to a lot of them…” I feel myself starting to drift like a raft away from the shore. “That’d be the first.”

Chapter Eight

Matt

I wakeup to the soft breeze of the bedside fan, and Melanie is the first thing I see. Rays of the morning sunlight illuminate her face that is already glowing, despite not being awake yet, and both our hands are still folded over the pillow between us. Neither of us moved all night. I lay here, taking advantage of being able to take in every detail about her sleeping form. Her blue t-shirt which is exposing just a hint of skin on her shoulder; her brown hair with an occasional streak of gold or strawberry throughout it, how the draft from the fan is moving a few strands back and forth; how soft and long her eyelashes are… I’m cataloging all of it. Everything about her is just so natural, and she looks like a work of art lying there across from me.

She must sense my eyes on her though, because my leisurely perusal of her is interrupted only a few minutes in when she takes in a slow, deep breath and opens those green eyes that have a sage-like shade to them in this light. When they land on mine, I see just a flicker of confusion before she must inwardly remind herself I fell asleep here with her last night, and she recovers with a faint smile.

“How long have you been awake… and looking at me?” she asks, her voice gravelly from sleep.

“I woke up the exact second you did,” I smirk at her.

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