Page 6 of After Hours
“Oh my gosh, I just stripped you.”
We spoke at the same time, which made him laugh and try again. “Well, I guess I get to pull you upright again.” He held out one hand.
The calluses on the tips of his fingers rubbed against my palm, and some kind of delicious shiver flew through me. I blinked and scrambled to my feet to get a better look at the man standing in front of me. It had been dark the night before, but there was no mistaking my rescuer from the lake, Zane. “Oh my gosh,” I said again. “I’m so sorry.” I handed back the torn cloth like some sort of idiot. “I’ll buy you another t-shirt. I’m so—”
“It’s okay, Oscar.” He glanced down at his half-naked body and shook his head with a smile. “It’s a company uniform. I can just get another one, no problem.” He grabbed the remaining torn cloth and whipped it off over his head.
Luckily, the sight of his surprisingly built body glued my tongue to the roof of my mouth, so I didn’t keep babbling like a fool. His golden skin skimmed over sculpted arms, smooth pecswith tiny brown nipples, and abs. Holy hell, he had a six-pack just visible under the sandy trail of hair leading down past his waistband. Cheeks on fire, I came to my senses and whipped my gaze back up to his.
A little smile played across his angular face. “Are you on vacation here now? Making the rounds in the area?” He waved his hand in a vague circle.
I tried to pay attention to his question instead of the flex of his bicep, but his body was distracting in all the best ways. “Oh, no. I live here.”
His pretty hazel eyes widened. “You live at the camp?”
I shook my head, curls bouncing. I could feel the heat spreading from my face down my neck. “No, no. At the inn. I’m not on vacation.” When he tipped his head and showed no signs of boredom with my blathering, I went on. “I just moved to the area. One of the inn owners is my uncle, and I’m staying with them for a while. I just got a job here.”
“Oh, well, I should let you get back to work then,” Zane said.
“It’s okay. I start tomorrow.” A quick glance down at his abs – I simply couldn’t help it – brought to mind his comment about the ripped T–shirt being from work. “You’re working now, though, right? I should letyouget back and find another shirt and all.”
“I only have the Halcyon order before I’m off for the day. I work the early shift for a commercial laundry… delivery driver.” He shrugged. “Do you need a ride back there?”
For a moment, I almost said yes just so I could spend more time in Zane’s presence. He’d put on another T-shirt, but that wouldn’t dampen the excitement too much. I couldn’t leave my car here, though, so I had to shake my head again. “I have my car. I… I guess I’ll see you around.”
Zane fiddled with the torn fabric of his T-shirt for a moment before meeting my eyes again. “I hope so. I’d like that.” With afinal flash of smile and a wave, he turned and hurried across the lot to a white box truck with a Beacon Laundry logo on the side.
Driving across the country and taking a chance on a new life seemed like a good idea. I got a job and maybe made a new friend all in the same day. I tried to ignore the mental whispers that pointed out I wouldn’t mind having Zane as more than a friend. If we were only destined to be friends, though, I hoped we did a lot of things where shirts were optional. Anything to get to see that body again.
I blew out a deep breath and ducked into my car. Instead of giving into the urge to zoom back to the inn for another chance to see Zane, I turned toward the shops for some much-needed supplies. Now that I had a real job and the promise of a paycheck for a couple of months, I wasn’t going to live off the generosity of Finn and Carter completely.
They were doing enough by letting me stay in their spare room. The knowledge that the camp position wasn’t permanent niggled at the back of my mind. I had to focus on the positive, though. It was the only way to start out on the right foot of my new, freedom-filled life.
Chapter 4
Zane
My phone rang, shattering the best dream I’d had in quite a while. In it, the cute guy with the curls and gray-blue eyes, Oscar, had ripped my t-shirt off again, but that time, we were in my bedroom with the door locked and the lights turned down low. Waking up to my lonely bed wasn’t the start to the day I wanted. I groaned, adjusted my hardon so I wouldn’t damage myself rolling over, and grabbed my phone.
Only two people ever called me. Grandma had our weekly chat on her schedule and would never call during my sleep hours. Wyatt, my pain in the ass twin brother, had no schedule and no appreciation for my early morning job.
I didn’t bother opening my eyes before answering. “What do you want now?”
“Hey Z. Haven’t talked to you in a while. How’s my best bro?” He sounded chipper, which probably meant he wanted something.
I shifted backward to settle against my pile of pillows. Sugar rolled over and thumped her tail twice before falling back to sleep. “Wy, I start work in the middle of the night, which means I sleep during the day. Are you ever going to remember that?” One eye eased open to glance at my phone screen. One o’clock. It looked like another day without an after-work nap. At least I stayed asleep long enough to have that dream.
“Oh shit,” he said, actually sounding apologetic for once. “Sorry, man, but I had a big favor to ask you.”
Of course he did. I fought the urge to hang up immediately, turn off my phone, and go back to sleep. My brother wasn’t the most responsible person in the world. In high school, we were inseparable, hanging out and camping with other folks who liked their beer and weed a bit too much. There wasn’t much else to do around the small town if you didn’t play or watch football religiously. I grew up in the years since graduation, though, and he apparently forgot he wasn’t eighteen anymore.
Wyatt wasn’t a bad guy. Mostly, he seemed a bit untethered, like a climber swinging at the end of a rope instead of sitting safely on a ledge. He was six minutes older than me, but he treated me like the big brother.
“What do you need?” I squeezed my eyes shut and fisted a hand at the edge of my quilt.
“Could I get a ride to Pittston around two?”
Both my eyes flew open. “Today? Why do you need to go to Pittston? Why can’t you drive yourself?” I hated the way my voice rose, automatically filling with anger, but Wy frustrated me like nothing else. Sometimes I dreamed of cutting him offand refusing to do anything else to help him. Letting him swing. But he was my brother, my twin, and I just couldn’t do it.
