Page 34 of Unhurried Hearts

He slides the remote control that lays at the end of the bed towards us with his sock foot, picking it up and pointing it at the television, which remains black despite mashing the buttons.

“There’s a trick to it. You have to get the angle right to make it work.”

“That’s what she said.”

“Chris!” I shove him with my shoulder, and he barely moves an inch.

“You set that one up for me!”

The screen comes to life and a slideshow of photos from my phone appears. Ashlyn and I smiling in her backyardin our bathing suits, laid out on towels with oversized sunglasses.

“You guys are super close, eh?”

“We’re almost the same age. And after my mom met my stepdad, I was over there a lot.”

Chris is attentive, a hand on my knee as he listens.

I sigh, figuring we’re really getting into it now. “He’s religious. My mom was always trying to find herself. One day she went to this new church. Really flashy with loud music and huge crowds. That’s where she met Thad. I don’t even like to call him my stepdad, we’renotclose.”

He rubs a hand over his face. “That’s why your relationship is tough with your mom?”

“In a sense. He changed her. Or she let him change her? I’m not sure.”

He continues. “And the religious stepdad is why you haven’t…”

“I mean, not because I think there’s anythingwrongwith sex. Not anymore, anyway. When I left home, I did have to see a counsellor and wade through a lot of bad memories. Then time got away from me, and I’ve probably been too picky.”

He huffs a laugh. “Sorry, I’mnotlaughing at you. It’s only I wish I’d have beenmorediscerning over the years.”

“You regret being with some people?”

He shrugs. “It doesn’t really matter now. But yeah. I could have chosen better.”

What went wrong with those women? Will he regret whatever happens with me?

The flash of the television catches my eye and I gasp, lunging for the remote in his hand but it’s too late. He looks to the screen where his naked torso, the photo he sent me last night, is on display.

My face burns as he bursts into laughter. The rich rumble of it vibrates against me.

“I’ll delete it. I’m sorry. The photos automatically go up there,” I explain.

“Make it your lock screen for all I care.” He grins, perfectly confident in the body he obviously works hard to hone.

“C’mere.” He throws a heavy arm around my shoulder, and we rearrange ourselves against the wall, a plethora of pillows behind our backs.

I groan when I shift my legs.

“That hike did a number on you, eh?”

“Embarrassingly, yes.”

“C’mon, give me a leg.”

I look up at him. “What?”

“It’s the least I can do. I’ll rub your sore muscles.”

He takes my left leg over his lap before I can argue about it and sinks strong thumbs into my very tender quad. I almost go through the roof at the mix of pleasure and pain. Warmth gathers between my legs as he kneads the tension away.

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