Page 32 of The Confidentiality Clause
Lean muscles are revealed. It’s clear that his workaholic tendencies haven’t affected his physique–at least not noticeably. He lowers himself into the tub across from me. I try not to gape at his shoulder muscles above the water.
“If you keep staring like that, I’m going to get worried that you really did have nefarious intentions by bringing me out here,” he teases.
My face flushes, and I hope the blue-toned hot tub lighting conceals it.
“I wasn’t staring at you,” I lie.
He smirks in response.
I reach for my wine glass, take a sip, then grab my phone. I can’t help but grin when I see another message from Cohen.
Cohen: Did you fall asleep on me, gorgeous?
I stifle a giggle on account of Brock being across from me.
Ariel: No, sorry, I was just grabbing a drink. Are you sure you don’t need to get to sleep though? I’m sure you had a long day.
Because he’s adoctor. I internally swoon. He works in the pediatric ward of a local hospital. Imagining a man as attractive as him working with little kids all day turns me to goo.
Cohen: Talking to you is better than sleep.
If I was alone, I’d be squealing right now.
“Who are you texting over there that has you smiling like that?” Brock asks, snapping me out of my bliss.
“Just a guy,” I say as I start typing out my response.
“What would this guy think of you texting him while you’re sitting in a hot tub with me?” he asks.
I shoot him a look. “You and I aren’t even friends, so he wouldn’t think anything of it.”
“Is that so?” He grins. I don’t like the mischief in his expression. “Why don’t we find out?”
I don’t have time to prepare for him lunging across the tub. He snatches my phone and moves back to his spot.
“Don’t you dare message him!” I step across the tub and fumble for my phone. He holds it outside of the jacuzzi. The screen is lit up, and his thumb is moving over the digital keyboard.
“Brock, I’m serious, I need this date.” I reach over him and try to grab the phone. He laughs and keeps moving it away.
“It will make you more enticing if he knows he has a little competition,” Brock says through his laughter.
I keep trying to reach for it, but he switches his hands. I dive to the other side, and end up crashing into his chest in the process. We both freeze. Our eyes lock. He looks at me through wet lashes. In the low light, his irises look so dark, they’re almost black. I can’t breathe. A droplet of water trails down my cheekto the corner of my mouth. His gaze follows the path. My palms heat from where they’re pressed against his chest, and I try not to think too much about how I’m quite literally in his lap.
Slowly, he holds the phone out to me. I snatch it and propel myself back to where I was sitting before. My heartbeat thunders in my ears, and there’s heat pooling in my abdomen that I don’t think is from the warmed water. I swallow. Neither of us says a word for a while. I can’t even bring myself to look at my phone and check if Brock managed to send a message.
“Can I ask you something?” Brock’s husky voice is barely audible over the jets.
I look up from the bubbles and meet his gaze. What could he possibly want to ask me afterthat?
Maybe it’s the chlorine going to my head, but I find myself answering, “Yes.”
Chapter fifteen
Brock Jones
I never should have gotten into this hot tub. It might as well be a pool of piranhas with how dangerous it is.
Ariel stares at me from across the water. Her hair is piled up on top of her head, and there are strands sticking to her face from the humidity. My gaze traces the length of her neck to the slope of her collarbone that’s visible just above the waterline. I try to banish the knowledge that I know what she looks like beneath the bubbling jets. That I know what shefeelslike.
