Page 94 of Fangirl Down

Inherbathroom.

To be fair, he’d barged into the apartment half-dressed, but the reality of those mesh workout shorts coming off wasextremelyhard to ignore.

Still, she wouldn’t be spectating that big reveal. She’d been the one to put the brakes on their relationship. And for good reason.This was her chance to take the knowledge she’d been digesting her entire life and put it to use. To make herself and her family proud by revitalizing and legitimizing their business. Dating Wells in the public eye would lead to her being pigeonholed as the strong woman behind the successful man.

Or worse, his pet pity project.

Uh-uh.

But they could be friends. Really good friends.

After all, she couldn’t just send him home after he’d driven from Miami thinking she was a goner. As soon as he got out of the shower and they figured out something for him to wear, she’d ask him if he wanted to order takeout and watch a movie that didn’t have Gerard Butler humping anyone in it. They could discuss strategy for Torrey Pines next week and gossip about the other golfers. It would begreat. Maybe she’d even show him her high school yearbook so they could laugh over her humidity bangs, braces, and puka shell necklace trifecta.

Mind made up, Josephine wedged the broken front door closed as best she could and walked down the hallway toward the bedroom, intending to find an oversized shirt for Wells to put on. She paused only for the barest of seconds outside of the bathroom door. “Do you have everything you need?”

“No,” he called back immediately.

Josephine frowned. “I just put fresh towels on the rack this morning.”

“Yeah, I found those.”

The bathroom door opened.

Steam rolled out in a dreamy waft.

There stood shirtless Wells, forearm braced on the doorframe. In a very brief towel. The sucker barely made it around his hips, leaving a very sizable slit running up his sinewy thigh. “This towel is more like Kleenex, belle.”

“Oh,” she rasped. “Is it?”

“Yeah.” He tucked his tongue into his cheek. “It could fall off any second.”

“Oh.” A terribly wonderful tingle started in her breasts and slowly spiraled lower, lower, to her belly and the flesh between her thighs. Uh-oh. “Could it?”

“Afraid so.” He dropped his forearm from the door and prowled toward where she stood transfixed in the hallway. “Listen, Josephine. I know you want to be seen as a professional. You need to be taken seriously to build your dream—and I get that. I want that for you. But, baby...” He crowded her up against the hallway wall and the horny sound that left her mouth would have been embarrassing if she could manage to think straight. “It’s only you and me here. We can be professionals later.” He leaned in, his mouth finding the pulse at the base of her neck and spreading warm air across that fluttering skin, kissing her there. “No one is watching us right now, Josephine. Makes you wonder why you’ve still got your panties on, doesn’t it?” Slowly, torturously, his tongue licked all the way to her ear and bit down. “I knowI’mwondering.”

Wells grazed their lips together, held that position without kissing her for a beat, both of them already breathing like they’d just completed a swim to Aruba. Then he backed away, leaving her trembling against the wall, all sensitive hips, feverish skin, and jelly thighs, her mouthdyingfor the taste of him.

Turning, he sauntered back into the bathroom, letting his towel drop on the way into the shower, giving her a very generous view of that butt—and dear God, it was a golden, sculpted masterpiece. A sacrifice even the stingiest of gods would accept.

Tight, thick, round cheeks sprinkled with hair. Golf’s most perfect bubble butt, right there in her home. Totally bare. And when he stepped into her shower, flashing her his balls and anerection, both of which, frankly, looked heavy and miserable, the temptation of Wells—being connected to him again, the way they’d been in Texas—had her taking a step toward the bathroom, hovering in the doorway. Should she? Or was this—literally—a slippery slope?

Two of them.

Wells crooked his finger at her from inside the steamy shower.

Then he dropped that hand to his shaft and stroked himself roughly.

And the possibility of saying no sifted right through her fingertips, like it never existed.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Was Wells playing it cool, as though his life hadn’t flashed before his eyes today?

He was trying like hell, but in no way, shape, or form had he recovered from thinking something terrible had happened to Josephine. And honestly, he’d walked into that bathroom ordering himself to be respectful of her wishes. When he’d been damn near overcome by the need to kiss her on the couch, he’d reminded himself of what she wanted—and he’d refrained.

Unfortunately, Josephine’s bathroom was like a cute little wonderland of her scents and personality. A combination of frilly and practical. Cheerful yellow soap beside an electric toothbrush. In a touch of whimsy, those glow-in-the-dark stars were stuck to the ceiling, but she had a ruthlessly arranged assortment of glass jars containing cotton balls and Q-tips. The kicker, however, was the baby-blue see-through bra hanging from the towel rack.

See through.With a white bow in between the cups.

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