Page 30 of Spared
My fingers graze the smooth surface of the screen, and without thinking, I open up our message thread from earlier. My heart jumps when I see grey bubbles moving at the bottom, indicating that he’s typing.
I hold my breath, anxiously awaiting his text. Then, just as quickly as they appeared, the bubbles are gone. No message comes through.
So, I decide to send him one, my fingers moving almost instinctively as I type it out.
Can’t sleep either?
His response is instant.
Matty: Now who’s stalking who?
I grin, sinking back into the pillows.
Any tips to cure this insomnia?
Matty: Count sheep? Or does that make wolves hungry?
Ha. Ha.
Matty: ;)
I chew on the inside of my cheek as I debate my reply, wincing at how raw the skin has become after doing it so much today. It’s as if my shifter healing is refusing to kick in until I address the problem that’s giving rise to the nervous habit.
Might hit the showers.
Matty: Good time to do it if you want to be alone, they’re usually empty at this hour.
I feel the faintest blush creep up my neck, my fingers moving to type out a response. I promptly delete it, then type it again, my thumb hovering over the button a beat too long before I finally work up the nerve to hit send.
I wouldn’t mind some company.
I throw my phone back onto the nightstand like it’s on fire, too chicken shit to even see if he’ll respond. Shoving up from my bed, I pace over to the closet, grabbing my toiletry bag and a change of pajamas before heading for the door. My heart beats a riot in my chest as I pull it open, slipping out into the hall.
The silence of the dorms at midnight makes every sound seem sharper– the pad of my feet against the floor, the distant hum of the air conditioning, the steady beat of my pulse in my ears. It’s dark, the hallway illuminated only by the dim glow of the nightlights along the walls. I quickly make my way to the locker room, the door swinging open with a soft creak and the cold, sterile air hitting my skin as I enter. As expected, it’s vacant.Perfect.
I don’t turn on the lights. The soft glow from the sconces along the walls is more than enough, and my enhanced vision guides me through the room, my senses sharpening in the dark. Moving toward the long bench in the center, I set my things down and swiftly strip off my clothes. Goosebumps pebble up on my skin as the cool air washes over my bare form, and I hurriedly cross the room to claim one of the corner showers, cranking it on.
It only takes a minute or so for the water to get to temperature. I test it with my palm periodically, then step underneath the spray, letting the warmth soothe the tension in my shoulders. Steam rapidly begins to build, surrounding me in a cloud of soft mist. Leaning into the spray, I close my eyes for a moment and let out a contented sigh, relaxing my body and mind as the water washes me clean.
Then I hear the door opening.
My eyes pop open just in time to catch Matty stepping into the locker room with a change of clothes in hand. He pauseswhen our eyes meet through the darkness, his cheeks flushing at my state of undress before he averts his bashful gaze.
I can’t help but smile at his reaction. It’s sohuman, and way more endearing than it has any right to be.
Matty carefully makes his way over to the bench, hindered by the dim lighting as his eyes slowly adjust. Setting his clothes down next to mine, he turns his back to undress. I watch with rapt attention as he tugs off his t-shirt, my mouth watering at the way his muscles ripple beneath his golden skin. Then he drops his pants, and my eyes feast over his firm ass and toned thighs, a needy throb starting up between my own.
The back view is just a snack, though, because when he turns around, I’m treated to the main course– his stupidly handsome face, broad chest, sculpted six-pack abs, and that massive, veiny cock hanging heavy between his thighs.
Goddamn.
His blue eyes lock with mine as he starts prowling in my direction, moving across the room with effortless grace.
“We still need to talk, you know,” he murmurs, his voice quieter than usual, but no less assured. The low, velvety rumble of it washes over me like a drug, sending a shiver racing down my spine despite the heat of the water pelting my skin.
“I know,” I reply hoarsely, spinning around and tipping my head back to let the water run over my face, hoping it’ll help settle my racing heart. “But not now.”
I hear Matty step closer, feel the heat radiating from his body as he closes in on me. “When?”
