Page 34 of How to Kiss a Hawthorne Brother
Chapter Ten
Kate
Oh.That is a very fully naked Brody.
I gasp.
Brody swears.
We make eye contact. His jaw tightens. “I saiddon’tlook down.”
I look away and scramble through his window so fast, I nearly face plant onto his kitchen floor. I hoist myself onto my feet, using his table for balance.
That was—
He was—
I don’t even have words. To be fair, I couldn’t actually seeallof him. The way his arms were placed, holding up the backs of my legs, one of them obscured my view. This was not a full-frontal nudity situation. But I did see the entire length of his very muscular leg and the curve of his—oh, good grief. I sawenough,okay?
I turn back to the window and risk a peek, but Brody and his loin cloth, because let’s be real, that towel is hardly big enough to be anything but, have disappeared.
Right.Because I’m supposed to be letting him in.
I scramble to the front door, trying hard not to think about how much Brody looks like his body was sculpted out of smooth marble.
A glow up? Was that the term Olivia used? It doesn’t feel like enough. Not that I’ve ever seen Brody naked before. But even just his chest and shoulders, the way he’s filled out . . . add in a week’s worth of trail scruff? He has taken sexy to a whole new level.
I reach the front door and unlock it, but the knob won’t turn. I jiggle it a little, pausing when Brody’s voice sounds through the door.
“The lock is broken,” he says, his voice muffled. “Twist the lock, then hold it in place as you turn the knob.”
It works on the first try, and I swing open his front door to find him standing on his porch, towel securely in place.
He holds up his finger as he turns sideways to slip past me. “Don’t say a word, Miss I Can’t Listen to Basic Directions.”
I stifle a laugh and press my lips together. “I justdidlisten to basic directions. I opened your door, didn’t I?”
“Not those directions, the last directions,” he calls as he hurries through his living room.
He’s got me there. But the response was more reflex than anything. Had he said, “Kate, my towel fell off, so please don’t look down,” I might have paused before reacting long enough to control the impulse to, well,look.
“It was an accident!” I yell to his retreating form.
“Yeah, I bet.” He disappears down the hall into what I can only assume is his bedroom. I have no idea if he wants me to stay or go. But I can’t exactly blame him for not pausing long enough to issue a proper invitation. If I had been the one trapped outside in a towel, I’d want to be wearing pants before having a regular conversation too.
It feels weird to hang around, but it feelsmoreweird to disappear. Because there is no way it won’t look like he scared me off with his...I have to stop thinking about naked Brody.
But leavingwouldmake things weird the next time we see each other. Better to just rip the band-aid off and talk about it.
Or in this case, are we putting the band-aid back on?
I wander around Brody’s living room while I wait for him, pausing when I get to his bookshelf. The contents don’t surprise me. Science books. Math books. Novels bigger than my head. All very Brody books. But then on the second shelf, I see several editions ofThe Atlantic,stacked with copies ofSouthern Traditions and Travel, Explore Europe,and half a dozen other magazines. It might seem random to anyone else, but this isn’t random. These are all magazines that I’m published in.
He’s collecting my bylines.
A door clicks open down the hall, and I spin around to see Brody entering the living room wearing jeans, a plain white T-shirt, and a sheepish expression that is maybe the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.
I’ve got to hand it to him. The man wears clothes as well as he...doesn’t.
