Page 32 of What About Us
“It’s just on the side there. By my heel, kind of… Can you see it?” She cranes her neck and twists a little to see. “It hurts so much; it feels huge.”
The urge to make a sex joke is so fucking strong, but by some miracle, I’m able to refrain.
I pull my eyes away from her thighs and look at the outside of her foot, turning it in my hand. “Yep,” I say and go after it, but the angle is wrong. “Here, can you…” I lift her foot and she shifts backward on the counter, sliding halfway into the sink.
She scrambles to grab a hold of something and gets a fistful of my shirt at the same time I shoot to my feet and reach to steady her around her waist. The proximity has my heart kicking up a notch and the scent of her shampoo fills my nose. Her shirt has ridden up, and I can’t help but brush my thumb against the exposed skin of her waist. It might be my imagination, but I swear her breath hitches ever so slightly.
She rights herself. “Sorry, did I scratch you?”
“Nah, you’re good.” I force my breathing to even out and glance down at her. A pained expression paints her face. “You all right?”
“Yeah. I hit my back on the faucet, but it’s ok. I’m ok.” She winces again. She’s usually pretty tough, so it mustreally hurt.
“Here,” I say. “Don’t fall again.” I chuckle. “Let me look.”
She huffs out a breath and lifts her shirt in the back a little. She’s got a red mark there, just above the band of her shorts. I run my fingers over the spot. Her skin is so soft and warm. Her shoulder brushes my chest and it’s like an electric shot straight to my groin. She turns her head to look at me and my eyes drop to her slightly parted lips. Hers drop to mine, too, and she leans forward a fraction of an inch.
“Am I gonna live?” she whispers.
When my gaze flutters up to hers, I see her eyes are slightly glassy. Heat crackles between us.
“Looks like it,” I say, my voice a hoarse murmur. I run my fingers over the area again before straightening and sitting back on the toilet lid.
She clears her throat and looks away, but I can see her pulse point pounding in her neck and its suddenly ten degrees hotter in here. I wonder if she feels it, too.
“Where’s the…” I look around for the tweezers and she turns to look, as well.
They’re behind her, and she twists on the counter to grab them. My hands instinctively find their way to her thighs to keep her from toppling over again. I’m gripping her tighter than I need to, but I can’t help it. Having my hands on her feels too damn good. She shifts just right so that her open thighs give a perfect view of her panties as her shorts gap away from her thigh.
My mouth goes dry. My cock perks up.
Goddamn.
“Here you go.” It’s a little breathless, as she shifts to straighten up.
My eyes snap to her hand, and I fumble the tweezers when I try to take them from her outstretched palm. They drop between the toilet and the vanity. When I bend to grab them, my forehead collides with the corner of thecountertop.
I jerk back, slapping a palm over my face. “Ow. Fuck.”
She gasps and then chuckles lightly. “My God, we’re a pair, aren’t we? Here, let me see.” I lift my chin, and she runs her fingers over the spot between my eyebrows, just left of dead center. Her fingers linger there for a second before she drops her hand.
“All good.” She bites her lip, eyes dropping back to my mouth for a split second. Then, she leans in to plant a quick kiss between my eyebrows.
The sensation sends my mind reeling, and my head swims with mixed emotions. I could kiss her so easily right now. Yank her off that vanity and across my lap to straddle me. And the way she’s looking at me makes me wonder if she would let me. It’s so damn tempting.
“Thanks,” I say instead, turning my attention back to her foot.
I do my best to not hurt her, but she winces a couple of times. I check in with her, and then finally manage to get the large sliver out of her foot.
“Is it big?”
I choke on my laugh. “Are we still talking about the sliver?”
Her lips twist into a knowing smirk and her eyes glint with amusement, cheeks flushing the faintest bit of pink. But she doesn’t say anything. So, I chuckle and hold the tweezers up for her to see the sliver still stuck to it. “It’s good sized.”
She pulls my hand close to her, eyeing the sliver. “Little fucker,” she says, and then giggles. “Thanks, Huddy.” She ruffles my hair and hops off the counter. “I’ll be ready in a few, and then we can head out.”
Before she notices my cock trying to force its way out through my zipper, I nod, make a beeline for the hall, and shut her bedroom door firmly behind me. My mind scrambles for anything to latch onto that doesn’t involve Finnley in the shower—all wet skin and long hair. Per usual, it fucking fails.
