Page 194 of Burn Bright
“How far are you willing to rewind?”
I suck in a breath, feigning contemplation. “Two minutes.”
Her cheeks pinch in a grimaced smile. “Oh, only two minutes.” She pumps a lackluster fist in the air.
“Now we can’t rewind at all because that was too cute. We can push pause though. Let me just do this first.” I lift her up, and her legs naturally wrap around me. We’re eye-level while I cup her soft, bare ass. Her arms drape over my shoulders, and her grumpy, sullen face takes a much lighter turn. “You want to pause, Fisher?”
She nods slowly while she says, “I don’t want to fuck this up. We have such a short amount of time left, and I might ruin it.”
“You won’t ruin anything. You are the leastruinousperson I’ve met. I’m the one?—”
“You warned me,” she interjects. “You told me. There was nothing more you could do, except not have sex with me, and Iwouldn’t want that either. I loved tonight. So I’m not rewinding a single second, I’ve decided.”
“Good—”
She kisses me abruptly, which makes me smile. I kiss back, slowing the tempo, which draws an aching sound out of her.
When our lips part, she pants out, “Did we press play?”
“I think so.”
“Cool, because I wanted to ask what shampoo we’re using.”
I laugh. “Hate it?”
“I could marry it.”
“Now you’re making me jealous. I might have to trash it.” I reach for the bottle, holding her up against me with one arm.
She tears my hand away from the ledge of products. “Absolutely fuckingnot.”
A deeper laugh rumbles out of me.
“My hair has never felt this silky, and it’s not even dry yet.Feel.” She tips her head forward to me.
I gladly run my fingers through the blonde strands. “That’s the work of a high-end vegan shampoo.”
“High-end, huh.” Her brows spring at me. “Splurging, Friend?”
“Thankfully I already had it before my bank account plummeted tozero. I don’t use a lot at one time.”
“Conserving,” she nods. “I do the same thing with toothpaste. You have to roll that sucker to the very tip.” Her puckered smile is making me grin. My heart feels so fucking full again.
I lean in and kiss her—then I hear the slam of a door.
Our mouths break apart like we’ve been electrocuted. I shift my hands to her hips, and she slides down my body, her feet splashing into the wet tile.
“What was that?” Harriet’s eyes widen.
I’m already jumping out of the shower, not willing to take any chances. “Stay here.” I wrench a towel off the hook. “Use the conditioner. Just don’t marry it while I’m gone.”
Her hesitation ends the banter, a hand frozen on the hot-and-cold lever. “I thought your brothers usually spend the night at your parents’ house on Wednesdays?”
“Usually they do.” No one loves the two-hour drive back to New York after dinner (shorter for those who push the speed limit, longer if there’s traffic), but there are times they’ll do it. Especially if they have a morning obligation the next day. I checked the group calendar. No one has shit to do tomorrow morning.
I’m already walking out the door, tying the towel around my waist. Water drips down my legs and creates footprint puddles as I head down the short hall.
“Hello?” I call out. “Anyone here?”
