Page 56 of Give Me a Reason

“Ireland’s stopping by this afternoon to check on you, but she has a thing tonight with Gia. Something about a new venue.”

“Will you keep me company?” I didn’t feel well enough to scrounge up something to eat, and I liked having her in my space.

She gave me a short nod, and then she left.

Suddenly exhausted, I turned over on my side and closed my eyes.

She was pushing me away, pretending what happened between us wasn’t a big deal. For the first time in forever, I was going to ignore the signals a woman was putting out. Because there was zero chance I wasn’t pursuing her. Just as soon as I felt better.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Aria

Finn was an adult. He could take care of himself, but he’d asked me to come over tonight and keep him company. So I made some soup to keep myself busy in the afternoon. When it was finished, I took the pot over to Finn’s house. I knocked on the door, wondering if he’d be able to answer it.

He opened the door, wearing worn pajama pants that hung low on his hips and nothing else. He rubbed a small hand towel through his damp hair, and droplets clung to his chest as if he hadn’t dried off completely before I rang the doorbell.

“You were able to shower?” I croaked, my face hot and my skin tingling all over as I stepped inside, trying not to brush against his bare chest.

He smiled, and it made him look younger. “I feel like a new man.”

I set the pot on the counter, my hands trembling as I avoided looking directly at him. He was like the sun, and if I looked at him too long, he’d burn me. “How are you feeling?”

“My throat is still a little sore, and I’m achy when I don’t keep up with the painkillers, but I’m feeling a little less tired.” His voice had a scratchy quality to it that only made him sound sexy.

“That’s good.” I should have told him he didn’t need me, but I couldn’t seem to make my mouth say the words or my feet move in the direction of the door.

He dropped his hands, the towel hanging from one. “You made soup?”

“Yeah, it’s what my mom always did for us when we were sick. I asked her for the recipe. It was easy to make,” I said, rambling.

He cleared his throat. “No one’s ever made me soup before.”

“Even when you were sick?” I asked, forgetting not to look at him, my breath catching as I took in his hard pecs, defined abs, and the happy trail of hair that pointed downward. Was that a bulge in his pants? Was he wearing anything underneath?

Then it occurred to me. He was damp when I came in and probably had just thrown on his pajama bottoms to answer the door. My heart beat rapidly in my chest as my breaths came in short bursts.

“My parents were too wrapped up in whatever drama was going on in their lives at the time to worry about us being sick. I had my sister, but she’s younger than me and not the best cook.”

I laughed, hoping he didn’t know what I’d been thinking about: him naked in the shower.

He turned and walked toward the steps. “Can you pour some of that into a bowl? I’m just going to finish drying off.”

“You do that.” Now I sounded like an idiot, and when he turned around, all I could see was a toned back. His large shoulders sloped inward to a trim waist, and his pants clung to a perfectly round ass. There were miles of tan skin on display, and I was dying to know if it was as soft as it looked, stretched taut over those muscles.

My one regret from our night together was I hadn’t seen any part of him naked. He’d merely dropped his pants enough to fuck me. I hadn’t explored his body or even seen the hard planes. I felt a little robbed, especially since I had no intention of doing it again.

I tipped my head back. He was sick, and he was my coworker. He was off-limits. Forbidden. Nothing could happen between us.

But the usual cautionary words weren’t doing anything to stop the hum beneath my skin. I needed bowls. Spoons. Napkins. I busied myself in the kitchen, trying to locate everything in his cupboards, frequently finding myself staring at nothing when I opened a door. My mind was on his chest, that back, and licking the droplets off his skin.

“The bowls are above the dishwasher.”

I looked at him over my shoulder, disappointed to find him wearing a shirt. “Of course. I don’t know why I didn’t look there first.” To be fair, I’d opened every cupboard but hadn’t seen what was in any of them.

I grabbed the bowls and quickly located the spoons while he plucked a few napkins out of the holder on the counter. “You want to eat in the living room? I thought we could watch a movie or something.”

This was my opportunity to make an excuse and head out, but instead, my lips pressed tightly together as I ladled out the soup for both of us. I wasn’t sure I could eat, but my body seemed to have a mind of its own.

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