Page 58 of Swept Up In You

She wasn’t ready to talk, especially not right now.

“Actually, I can’t at the moment. We were about to head out.” She never avoided her dad. And sheneverlied to him like this.

“Oh, okay, that’s fine.” He gave a strained smile and opened the door again. “What about Sunday after breakfast?”

“Sure.” She gave back a tight smile.

He rapped on the door, hovering, as if waiting for her to change her mind. “All right then. Nice to see you again, Taylor. Catch you both later.”

Taylor let out a breath. “You still haven’t talked to him?”

Sam grimaced, hanging her head. “No.”

“Sam.”

“I knoooow.”

“You can’t keep avoiding this. You need to talk to him. One conversation doesn’t fix everything and neither does avoidance. Communication is an ongoing thing. It’s how relationships work.”

“I will. Just… not right now. I was really enjoying our time together.”

“I get that.” Taylor reached for her hand, encasing it in hers.

Sam revelled in the warmth and calm it brought to her still-thudding heart. She looked towards the door to make sure her dad had definitely left. Taylor’s eyes followed hers, and she dropped her hand.

“Sorry, I’m not used to being ‘back in the closet’, so to speak.”

“Don’t be. I don’t want to have to hide this either. Just with everything else going on… it’s a lot. But I am trying. I just need some time.”

“As I said before, take all the time you need. I’ll also try and keep my hands and mouth to myself around here.” She made a show of zipping her lips and sitting on her hands.

“Please don’t.”

The war between kissing Taylor again and getting sprung by her dad was real. Why did things have to be so hard? Adulting should get easier with age, right? “I should really jump in the shower quickly and get changed, so I can drop you two off. Be right back. Make yourself at home!” she called over her shoulder as she raced to the bathroom.

She rushed her shower, not wanting to keep her guests waiting. As she towelled herself off, she realised, in her haste, she hadn’t grabbed any clothes for herself from upstairs. Her options weren’t looking great either.

She could:

A) get Taylor to bring her some or

B) make a dash for it upstairs.

She’d be covered enough in the towel…

It was dash time!

She opened the door and bolted. “Forgot my clothes!” she yelled as she legged it across the kitchen.

Belle thought it was a great game and joined in on the chase.

She barely heard Taylor shout for Belle to stop when the dog ran under her feet, right as she went to leap onto the stairs. Her foot managed to catch on the corner of her bath sheet—because one should always be smothered in an oversized towel—ripping it from her grip.

Time slowed as she watched her perfect Egyptian cotton towel fall from her body, completely engulfing Belle, who in turn became a bucking bronco, looking like a possessed fluffy ghost. Sam stood frozen, on the precipice of deciding whether to laugh or cry, before her brain finally caught up and she realised she was still standing there stark naked at the bottom of the stairs with Taylor gawking like a fish at the whole scene.

“Um…” was all she got out, before she ran the rest of the way up the stairs, trying to cover what she could. Taylor would have to deal with the mini fluff ball—or was it fluff bull?—downstairs.

Sam didn’t think it was possible to have a whole body blush, but she was pretty sure that’s what she was experiencing right now. She should’ve just got Taylor to grab her damn clothes. She hoisted up her leggings. How the hell was she going to face her afterthat? She threw on a bra and T-shirt, grabbed a brush to run through her hair and checked herself in the mirror. It’d do. Taylor’s seen the whole package now anyway. Her face flushed again. She looked up. Ugh. Stop thinking about it.

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