Page 61 of Hooking Up

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Chapter Ten

Walker

Iris doesn't invite herself to join me in the shower.

She makes a point of waiting until I'm done to move into the bathroom.

It's perfectly reasonable given our arrangement.

Hell—I usually fucking hate it when women step into the shower with me.

But with her, it feels weird. Like I'm being rude. Or she's being evasive. I don't know. I don't get relationship stuff.

I push it aside. It doesn't matter. We're having fun. Stressing about this shit is why I don't date.

Too much agony. Too much baggage. Too much everything.

I dress and move back into the kitchen. The cake is nearly done. The printed recipe is smudged with cocoa powder and sugar.

Like Iris's lips.

Uh-uh.

Not thinking that shit.

Not getting invested.

I'm making frosting.

Thinking about round two.

That's it.

I get out everything I need—coconut oil, powdered sugar, coffee, cocoa powder—and start measuring.

The shower turns off.

I add the last ingredient.

Iris moves into the main room, towel wrapped around her curvy body, wet hair sticking to her forehead.

I want it in my hands.

I want to rip that towel off her and pin her to the wall.

She presses her lips together. "It seems my clothes are on the floor."

"How'd that happen?"

"Curious."

Dry and wet fold together as I stir. I keep one eye on Iris.

She's shy about dropping her towel, donning her bra, stepping into her dress. Then her panties. "I'm not going out without these."

"I can't convince you?"

"You can try."

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