Page 43 of Love You From Afar

“Goodbye, Elliot.” I press end on the call, slamming my phone down on the counter before folding my arms over my chest. I’m lucky the screen didn’t shatter. I sit there a few minutes, waiting to see if Elliot will try to call back but he doesn't. As always, work is more important.

Slipping my phone into the pocket of my jeans, I head straight for the door, not stopping to look at anything but the exit. I hear heavy footsteps following behind me, but I don’t pay them any attention. Between the almost-kiss with Everett and the call from Elliot, I just need to get out of this bar.

The second I step outside, a piercing cold bites my skin. It feels like it’s gotten at least ten degrees colder since we got here.

“Skylar,” A deep voice booms behind me. I ignore it, dead set on getting back to the room as soon as possible. I’m in a terrible mood, and it’s colder than Antarctica out here.

“Skylar,” Everett shouts, grabbing my forearm and spinning me around. He’s towering over me, his cheeks rosy red as his breath comes out like puffs of thick smoke in the frigid air.

“Everett, for once, please just let me be,” I say through clenched teeth. “I don’t want to talk about it.” I rip my arm from his hold, standing my ground.

He shakes his head, like I have his intentions all wrong.

“Your jacket,” he pants, holding out his arm to hand me my jacket. “Put it on.”

Oh.

“I can see our motel room from here.”

“I don’t care,” he shakes his head. “Put the damn jacket on.” His tone is nothing short of demanding. “It probably isn't going to be much warmer in the room anyways. You’re going to need it.”

When it comes to Everett, I’ve learned to pick my battles, and judging by the look on his face, this is one I’m not going to win. I huff out a breath before slipping my arms through the fluffy sleeves. Once I’m all zipped up in my jacket and Everett’s finally content, I turn my back to him as we head to our room for the night.

Twenty minutes later, I’m sitting on the squeaky motel bed, scrolling through social media while Everett takes a shower. Thank God he convinced me to put on my coat because it’s cold as fuck in here. I have no idea how we’re going to make it through the night. At this point, I’d rather sleep in his truck with the heater on.

I’m watching a new video from my favorite YouTuber, Nikki’s Book Nook, when the bathroom door creaks open. Thick steam bellows out of the bathroom as Everett strides out. I was not prepared for what this man would look like fresh out of the shower becauseholy shit.

His damp, honey-brown hair appears a shade darker, falling in wet curls across his forehead. He’s wearing a black, long-sleeved henley paired with charcoal gray sweatpants that look thinner than paper. My eyes trail down his torso, fixing on the bulge that sways with each step he takes into the room.

My cheeks heat when he catches me staring at him like he’s died and risen from the dead.

“Would you like me to ask him for an autograph? I’m sure he wouldn't mind,” Everett smirks, tilting his gaze down to his hardening dick.

Oh God… It’s growing by the second, threatening to tent his sweatpants.

Look away, Skylar.

Look. Away. Now.

Lifting my gaze, I find Everett staring back at me with a knowing smirk stretched across his stupidly handsome face.

“Did you seriously just talk about your dick in third person?” I scoff, trying to act nonchalant.

“Well, he might as well be by the way you're staring at him,” he croons. “You know, I never thought I’d be jealous of my own dick, but here we are.”

“Okay,” I choke out. “That’s my cue to go.” I quickly grab my bathroom bag from the nightstand before rising off the bed.

“Wait.” Everett steps in front of me, halting my steps. The minty scent of his body wash tempting me to see if he tastes as good as he smells.

Yeah, I definitely need to get out of this room.

“Where are you going?” A wave of panic washes over his face, like he’s afraid I’m going to leave. My stomach flutters at his reaction.

“Relax,” I chuckle. “I’m just going to take a shower.”

“Again? Won’t that be like your third shower of the day?”

“Wow,” I hum, arching a brow. “Today really took a turn. You went from absolutely hating me to memorizing my shower schedule,” I joke, playfully shoving at his chest.

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