Page 30 of The Ex-Girlfriend Agreement

Brooke moves to the minibar, retrieving two bottles of water. She tosses one to me before cracking open her own and taking a long drink. I watch, mesmerized, as a droplet escapes the corner of her mouth, trailing down her neck to disappear between her breasts.

"Stop staring," she says without looking at me.

"Can't help it." I take a swig of my own water, not bothering to hide my appreciation. "You're something to look at, Callahan."

She flushes deeper, though whether from the heat or my words, I can't tell. "I thought we were going to talk about…this. Whatever this is."

"You want to have that conversation now? Half-naked and sweating?"

"No," she admits, moving to the bed and sprawling across it, limbs spread to maximize the surface area cooling her skin. "I don't know what I want."

That's not entirely true. There's hunger in her eyes when she looks at me, the same hunger I felt in her kiss on the boat. She wants me—that much is clear. What's less clear is what she wants beyond the physical, beyond this week.

I stand, unbuttoning my still-damp board shorts and letting them fall. Brooke's eyes widen as I stand before her in just my boxer briefs.

"What are you doing?" she asks, her voice higher than normal.

"Getting comfortable." I stretch deliberately, watching her watch me. "Purely practical, right?"

Two can play this game of pretending we're not affected by each other. I move around the room, gathering the aloe vera from my bag, retrieving more water from the minibar, all while acutely aware of her eyes following my movements.

The room grows hotter as the afternoon wears on, the sun beating down on the balcony doors we've left open in the futile hope of a breeze. Sweat trickles down my spine, pools in the hollow of Brooke's throat, creates a sheen across both our bodies.

"This is unbearable," she groans, rolling onto her back. "I feel like I'm melting."

I glance toward the bathroom door, an idea forming. "The shower."

"What about it?"

"Cold water." I stand, extending my hand to her. "It's our best option for cooling down."

She looks at my offered hand skeptically. "You want us to shower together."

"I want us not to suffer heatstroke." I keep my voice deliberately casual. "But if you're worried you can't keep your hands off me..."

She narrows her eyes at the challenge. "Fine," she says, taking my hand and allowing me to pull her to her feet. "But this is just about cooling off. Nothing else."

"Understood," I agree, fighting a smile at her stern expression.

The bathroom is marginally cooler than the main room, the tiled surfaces providing some relief from the heat. I turn on the shower, adjusting the temperature to cool but not shockingly cold.

"Ladies first," I say, gesturing to the shower.

Brooke hesitates, suddenly uncertain. "Maybe we should take turns."

"And let one of us continue to roast while the other's in here? Come on, Brooke. We're both adults."

She bites her lip, considering, then nods once. "Turn around."

I raise an eyebrow but comply, turning my back as I hear the rustle of fabric that means she's removing her underwear. My imagination doesn't need much help picturing what's happening behind me.

"Okay," she says after a moment. "I'm in."

I turn to find her already under the spray, water sluicing over her body, her face tilted up to the showerhead. She's positioned herself strategically, showing me her back but still giving me an eyeful of curves and smooth skin. My body responds immediately, predictably.

"Your turn," she says without opening her eyes. "I won't peek."

I strip off my boxer briefs, already anticipating her reaction when she inevitably does peek—because we both know she will. Sure enough, as I step into the surprisingly spacious shower stall, I catch her eyes fluttering open, then widening as she takes in the full view of me.

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