Page 45 of Taking Chances

“Yes, but my skin has already pruned up.” Alex chuckles.

“Maybe we should get out, then,” Noah says. It doesn’t sound suggestive, but there’s no mistakingwhyhe wants them to head to the bedroom.

“Youcouplesdisgust me,” I state, making Alex choke on a laugh. “But have fun.”

They exit the tub, quickly enveloping themselves in cozy bathrobes.

“Fuck, it’s cold,” Noah grumbles as they rush inside.

Matt and Natalie are in their own world, barely paying Lennox and me any attention, so I take another sip of my drink, gazing around awkwardly. Lennox doesn’t look any more comfortable, his muscular shoulders tense under the ink. We spend a few minutes drinking in the breathtakingly gorgeous night sky, covered in millions of stars, before Matt speaks.

“See you tomorrow, guys,” he says, as he carries Natalie out of the tub, deciding to take the party elsewhere at last. She winks at me, making me roll my eyes.

“Thank God,” Lennox says on a sigh when they enter the house. A small chuckle slips out of my mouth.

“And to think Natalie was the one scolding Rina and Connor for their PDA.”

“Really? What happened?” He lifts his brows.

“Love.” I can’t help but grin, but his eyes grow serious. “Sorry, I forgot you don’t believe in love.”

“Something like that,” he murmurs.

The tub is huge for the two of us, so I stretch my legs, trying to float. Still, I manage to graze his leg, a zing of electricity coursing through me at the touch.

“Sorry,” I stutter.

His eyes are more black than blue as they stare back at me. His beefy, tattooed hand reaches out of the water, grabbing hiswhiskey. I can’t look away as he swallows the liquid, mesmerized by the sight of his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“So, how did you like skiing?” I try to break the silence, but my voice is huskier than I’ve ever heard it.

“Much better than expected.”

“Right? I knew you’d like it.” The tension is replaced by comfortable chatter.

In the couple of months I’ve known him, I’ve grown to be comfortable around him.

“You’re an excellent teacher.”

“I try.” I flick my hair back jokingly.

He grins but continues, “Still, I meant what I said. You weren’t in debt to me in any way.”

“Thank you.” I’m used to men doing things because they want something in return. But I’m inclined to believe he really means what he says. “At least you don’t have to share a room with me this time.”

“Right.” My joke falls on deaf ears, his face set in stone.

We moved closer to each other, so close our shoulders are touching. My breath hitches as he lowers his hand, accidentally skimming my thigh.

“Sorry,” he says, but I stare straight ahead into the night, not daring to look at him.

“No worries.” It’s more of a breathy moan than a sentence.

“Fuck, this…thingyou’re wearing is making it hard to keep my hands away.” His tone is so low it’s barely audible.

“Oh,” I say, following with a whimper as his hand skims my leg again, this time intentional.

Blood rushes downstairs, my nipples rock hard as he trails his fingers up my thigh.

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