Page 79 of The Best Worst Mistake
I laugh and bite my lip. “Suit yourself.”
Chapter 36
Juliet
I mentally run through the past week after the seatbelt sign is turned off and Silas gets up to use the shower in the back of the plane. I’m finally alone again when I realize that none of this could simply be a figment of my imagination.
Si and I were close before, but notthisclose.
The dance in Spain, the conversation while we were sailing yesterday morning, and now the dream I just had?
Am I so deprived of intimacy over the last year that I’m making things up in my head?
“You look like you could use something cold after whatever I just woke you up from,” Andy says, coming down the aisle. He’s holding a tall glass of sparkling water with a slice of lemon balanced on the side. “And since your travel mate is taking up the only shower onboard, this’ll have to do.” He grins.
“I don’t know what’s gotten into me,” I tell him, shaking my head. Andy could hear me moaning Silas’ name in my sleep when he came to wake me up.
“You want to talk about it?”
He hands me the cold glass and I immediately drain half of it, thanking him after.
“How am I ever going to go back to basic economy?” I ask, hoping to side-swipe the question.
“Oh, how quickly luxury becomes a necessity, right?” he says, winking at me. “You know, you might not need to go back to economy after this.”
I nudge him gently on the arm, looking behind us toward the bedroom and bathroom suite where Silas might emerge from at any moment.
“Oh please,” I say, sighing. “After this, I’m sure Silas and I will go back to living very separate lives, where I teach people how to date and Silas rules his empire from in the sky.”
“I’m not so sure,” he sings over his shoulder as he walks back up the aisle to tuck himself into the kitchen again.
“Andy, where did that blue shirt go that I had hanging in the bedroom?” Silas’ deep voice suddenly rings out from a few feet behind me. I turn around to say hello, but I’m met with more bare skin than I was anticipating.
Silas is standing shirtless in the aisle with a fluffy white towel tied loosely around his waist. His smooth, taut skin is still damp from the steamy shower room he’s just emerged from. I try to avert my eyes, but I can’t seem to peel myself away from the thick eight-pack abs that are almost eye level behind me. Unfortunately, I steal a glance lower at the V of muscles between his hips.
Christ, Jules. Keep your eyes forward. You’re just deprived of a man’s anatomy. That’s all.
I slowly turn toward the front of the plane, not making any sudden movements.
“Um, Andy’s in the kitchen,” I tell him, not turning around again to speak. My words come out a bit high.
When he doesn’t answer, I turn to see what else he needs just as he releases the towel draped around his waist.
“No!” I gasp, then practically choke on a sigh of relief when I see a pair of black boxer shorts is underneath.
He laughs and lifts the towel up to catch a few drips off his neck.
I lean back and exhale, feeling myself redden.
“Andy?” Silas repeats, louder this time.
“Sir?” Andy pops his head out from behind the kitchen wall. His eyes appear to be dancing, even from here.
“My shirt?”
“Oh, I grabbed it to give it a quick steam. It’s ironed and hanging up. I must have stuck it in the wrong closet! Let me grab that for you.”
I’m pretty sure I’m not imagining the cheeky smirk Andy just threw in my direction.
