Page 51 of Rejected Exile

Laughing, I give in to it and take a run through the sprinklers, letting the water spray me from head to toe. Lance joins me, though his run makes mine look like a skip, every step of his like two of mine, his strength propelling him forward. We shoot back and forth through the backyard for a few laps—and then, as the ground grows soggy, I race to the house, open up the controls for the sprinkler system, and shut them off.

"That was weird," I mutter. "The timer wasn't even set."

"Let me see," Lance says, coming up behind me.

"Be my guest."

I step back and turn around to give him room, and he takes a step forward—only to suddenly freeze, blanching. At first I don't get it. Then I realize that his eyes are open and fixed in shock.

He's staring directly at my chest.

Following his gaze, I glance down—and nearly jump out of my skin when I realize what the water has done to my wet T-shirt.

The only bra I had to go with this shirt was a similar white one, and everything got soaked through in my mad dash, my clothing doesnothingto cover up my breasts at the moment. If anything it's worse than being naked. Because every wrinkle, every dripping inch of see-through white fabric, clings to my curves illicitly.

And molds to the peaked pink flesh of my nipples.

I blush scarlet, hurriedly throwing my hands over my breasts. Lance has already jerked his gaze away; he awkwardly steps back, clearing his throat.

"I'm so, so sorry," he blurts out, staring up somewhere into the clouds. "I shouldn't have looked—I mean, I wasn't expecting—it's not your fault of course... god, I sound stupider with every word. To think I swore I would stop putting my foot in my mouth around you after the day we met."

"It's okay," I tell him, half blushing because of what he just saw, but the other half—god, he looked away so quickly. Is it really that terrible to accidentally see a peek at my body? "You were just... surprised."

"Yes. Surprised." His tone is weirdly strangled, and he's angled his body away from me. "Taken aback, even."

"Of course. I should get something to cover up with." My eyes dart around, and the laundry occurs to me, but of course: Cat has probably put my dirty clothes in the washing machine. She's no doubt the one who turned the sprinklers on too. My only option is... "My dad kept some old jackets in the garage, I'll just go get one."

"I'll wait."

Stepping around Lance, I hold my breasts tight as I walk by him. But I can't help glancing over, wanting to see the expression on his face. Maybe if I read him I can figure out how bad this embarrassing moment really is, and why he's acting so weird about it.

The first thing I notice when I look at himisn'this face.

My eyes fall to the long, very healthy curve of what can only be an erection against the inside of his right thigh, just beneath his dark wash denim jeans. Lance doesn't notice me looking—his eyes are fixed on the sky—but I definitely spot it before I jerk my eyes away. Turning back towards the path to the garage, I take a few more steps and... stop.

What am I doing? I'm attracted to him. He's attracted to me, apparently. And Cat is right—I shouldn't ruin this opportunity from the start. Easy going, charming Finn may be an option for me, but his mention of thetownieshe's dating has made me reconsider having another go around with him. Maybe steady, kind Lance is more my speed.

And maybe, once I've figured out if it's safe to remove the chip and try to find my wolf, he would even be the kind of man to forge a mate bond with a rejected exile.

Feeling daring, I suddenly drop my hands, spin around, and face Lance fully. He's still craning his head towards the sky, but his eyes move around restlessly, like he can't find a place for them to land.

"What's the worst that would happen if you looked at me?" I ask him curiously.

"It's inappropriate."

"You're already hard. It can't get much more inappropriate than that."

Lance shifts uneasily, and I wonder if he's feeling the tightness of his pants trapping his arousal. "An unfortunate reaction. I'm sorry if it makes you feel uncomfortable."

"That's not the word I would use to describe how I feel," I tell him honestly. Taking a few steps towards him, I look up into his handsome face and smile a little at how hard he's fighting to restrain himself. "Look at me, Lance."

"You're still—"

"The nipple genie is out of the white shirt bottle. I'm tired of talking to your neck. Look at me."

A long moment passes. Finally, sighing, he looks down. But his eyes definitely focus on my forehead and don't move one inch down at all—making him nearly crosseyed.

In a low voice he asks, "Do you need me to go inside to fetch you a change of clothes? I can get you one of my jackets, if that would work."

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