Page 71 of Hate You, Maybe
“Yeah.” Dex runs a hand over his hair, awkwardly, spiking it up. “That’s why.”
“I’m not some damsel in distress, Dex.”
“I know that.” His jaw shifts. “But the guy’s been putting moves on you for the whole retreat. I thought you might need a little backup. Kinda like you did when Tori was coming on to me. Was I wrong?”
He’s right. I did do that.
“And anyway, Hogan wasn’t just coming on to you,” Dex grumbles. “He was practically grabbing your?—”
“You stopped him, though.”
“Exactly. So I’m sorry for not consulting you first. I didn’t think. I just took action.” His tone is gruff, like he’s rattled. “To be honest, I think I kept pretty calm considering how I felt on the inside.”
I stifle a smile, half amused, half shocked, half annoyed, plus also reluctantly attracted to Dex’s show of protectiveness. And yes, I know four halves make up two wholes. But that’s what’s going on inside me. Turmoil. And a churn of anticipation over what this all might mean.
I don’twantto like the fact that Dexter got a little possessive.
But I kind of like the fact that Dexter got a little possessive.
“Howdidyou feel?”
“I wasn’t a big fan of the ‘get a room’ comments.” His Adam’s apple traverses his throat. “I don’t want anyone thinking about you and Hogan being alone in a cabin.”
I tip my chin. “You’re sharing a cabin with me.”
“I guess I am.” His huff is quiet, and he meets my gaze. “But so far, I’ve managed to keep my hands to myself.”
I arch a brow. “So far?”
“You know what I mean.” He nods back toward the lodge. “Anyway, if you want to go back in there to Hogan …”
“I don’t.” I shiver in the cold night air. “Actually, I’mexhausted and my head hurts.” I rub at my scalp. “I think my ponytail’s too tight.”
“That’s a thing?”
“It is.” I let out a long sigh.
“Then … just … take it out.”
“You know what?” I glance around, my lips curving on one side. “That’s an excellent idea. I think I will.”
I lift my arms and work at the tight ponytail holder, unwinding multiple loops of the band. And as my hair rains down my back, a tingle starts along my scalp. The feeling is so good, I let out a low moan. Then I reach up again to give my head a little scratch, both hands tangled in the strands.
Dexter ducks his head. “Itchy?”
“Nope,” I say. “Once your hair gets loose after being pulled tight all day, your head gets fresh blood flow or something. I’m honestly not sure exactly how it works. I only know that the result is almost painful. But then … so much better.”
His gaze surveys the cascade of blonde around my shoulders. “I hardly ever see you that way.”
“What way?”
“With your hair down.”
My lashes flutter. “You notice my hair?”
“I notice everything about you.” The words come out husky, and I drop my arms. Then he says, “Turn around.”
My mouth goes dry. “Excuse me?”
