Page 48 of How to Deal

Here we are again. Third night in the hot tub, starry night, wine, and Elvis Presley playing on his phone through a pair of portable speakers he brought with him. It’s perfect, really, and I wouldn’t want to spend my night any other way. I’m certainly not telling Tathan, though.

“I’m really curious. . .” He relaxes against the side of the hot tub, his arms spread out revealing the muscles in his defined arms. I want to scoot over close to him and have him wrap them around me. “What makes you think I date those women at work?”

“You’re constantly with them.”

“Well.” He pauses, taking a drink of his beer, before he continues. “Then others must think I’m with you.”

“How so?”

“This is our third time in this hot tub in the last three days.”

He moves closer to me so our legs touch under the water. “And it’s certainly not easy to sit here with you and keep my hands to myself.”

“Why do you then, you know, keep your hands to yourself?”

Really, Amalie? Shut up! Stop provoking him.

He stares at me, I stare back—waiting, watching, daring each other to move.

“You want me to touch you?”

“Maybe.”

What? You’re a fucking idiot. Shut up and stop drinking wine. Go back to your apartment.

His touch beneath the water startles me, midthigh and strong, the other one moving to my face. “Like this?”

No. Higher. Between my legs.

Breathless, I think I say, “Maybe.” When what I meant to say was “YES!”

Tathan’s wet hand on my face wraps around my neck and pulls me forward. I kiss him. I don’t even wait for him to do it. Our lips part and he slides the hand on my thigh around my waist, pressing me flush against his chest.

The kiss starts out slowly, building, and then I’m straddling him in the hot tub, my hands fisting his wet hair, and his hands are pushing my hips down on him, and his erection. So fucking nice. Like perfect. Warmth spreads through my body when his mouth begins assaulting my neck with frantic kisses.

“Sorry to interrupt,” a woman’s voice says behind us. We were so caught up we didn’t even notice someone had come in.

I’ve never met this girl, but I’ve seen her around. I’m certain she’s friends with Jade and lives on the first floor. I don’t like her. Don’t know her, but the way she’s eyeing Tathan validates that I don’t like her at all.

“Oh, hey, Elliott,” she says, acknowledging him and ignoring me like I’m not even there. Apparently, I’m invisible.

Elliott? She knows him as Elliott?

I move from his lap to sit beside him. In a motion I appreciate right then, his arm wraps around me and then he acknowledges the woman. “Hey, Becca.”

Oh, look. That’s not a “pleased” tone. That’s a, “bitch, be gone,” tone.

I watch her body as she dips down in the water like she’s trying to be exotic about it. Though she has a decent body, when I look over at Tathan, he’s not even looking at her.

Hmmm. Interesting.

“So. . .” she gives him a smile, “about those pictures. . . .”

I don’t know why those words bother me, but they do. The jealousy starts to rise, leaving me confused.

“I told you, Becca, I’m very busy.” Tathan’s voice is sharp, like he’s tired of telling her this. “I don’t have time, and I’m booked out for a year.”

Becca considers this. “But you’re here now. We could just go back to my apartment and do them there—”

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