Shit.
He reached for the light switch, and I almost sighed in relief when he slid the dimmer to illuminate the bathroom only halfway.
He’d still see me, but with the distraction of the water and the dim light, I’d be able to hide some of my flaws.
Con tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it to the gray travertine floor and reached inside the glass enclosure to turn on the shower.
All thoughts of my body issues evaporated when I stared at him. My eyes feasted on the tanned and inked skin stretched over ridges of defined muscle. It’d been two years since I’d last seen him shirtless, and he’d definitely made some changes. He was still as ripped as he’d been then, but there were more tattoos. I’d be hard pressed to pick and choose exactly which were new, because unfortunately I didn’t have a photographic memory.
Although I did find it hard to believe I’d ever forget what I was seeing right now.
“Your turn, princess.”
Uh. What?
He’d turned back to me, and I’d been so caught up in cataloging the ripple of his obliques and flex of his pecs, I’d completely forgotten what I was doing.
I dragged my eyes from his chest up to his smirking lips. He’d clearly taken note of my detailed inspection.
He stepped toward me, and every muscle in my body clenched, including the inner ones.
Moving slowly, as though waiting for me to back away or protest, his huge hands drifted to the hem of my scrub top. When I stayed still, he slipped both hands beneath it, skimming up the curves of my waist and ribs, raising the shirt as he went.
“Arms up.”
Inhaling sharply, I complied with his command, and my vision went dark for a moment as he pulled it up and over my head. Wearing only the strapless bra that had been necessary for my cocktail dress, I stood in front of him. This time it was his eyes that strayed—or rather caught on my chest as it lifted with my heaving breaths.
Heaving bosoms.
I don’t know where the thought came from, but it was so ridiculous I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped.
Con froze, hands hovering just inches from my sides.
“You about to lose your shit, sweetheart? Because we can stop right here, and I’ll pretend I’m a gentleman for once in my life, and leave you to shower in peace.”
Trying—and failing—to wipe the slight smile off my face, I said, “It’s not that. I’m…just ignore me.”
This time he chuckled. “Like I’ve tried to ignore you for years? Hasn’t worked yet. Doubt it’ll work now.” His eyes dropped meaningfully and lingered on my body. “Especially when I’ve got you almost naked, and I’m fucking sober this time.”
All humor fled my brain. There was one thing I had to know; I’d been wondering about it for way too long.
“Would you have taken me home that night if you hadn’t been drinking? I always assumed that the only reason you’d forgotten you hated me was because of the booze.”
The backs of three fingers skimmed up the bare skin of my arm, leaving goose bumps in their wake.
“I’ve never hated you. That’s the problem.”
I jerked my gaze away from his hand and looked up into his blazing blue eyes.
“But in high school—”
“Thought we already covered the fact that the chip on my shoulder is big enough for Evel Knievel to use to jump a dozen school busses.”
“So—”
“The way I grew up, it’s easier—hell, safer—to pretend you don’t want something than it is to admit how you really feel.”
“Oh,” I whispered. “I always thought…”
“Exactly what I wanted you to think.”
“So that night…”
“I’ve spent more time trying to fill in those memories than I’d ever admit. It kills me that it’s nothing but blanks.” He flipped his hand, and his palm wrapped around my shoulder. “I’ve waited long enough. And you better damn well believe I won’t forget a second of what happens next.”
I shivered, and the heat of his palm skimmed up the column of my throat, until his thumb rested under my chin. He lowered his head, tilted my face, and took my mouth.
Reaching up, I twined both arms around his neck, burying my fingers in his hair. Con’s free hand slid down my back until it reached the band of my bra. I barely realized what he was doing before it unclasped, and the pressure against my breasts released.
I let go of his hair and smashed one hand against my bra to hold the cups in place.
Con lifted his head and stared down at me, confusion clear in his expression.
I knew in that moment I had to explain my hesitancy. He’d laid a little piece of his soul bare, and I was going to do the same.
“I have…stretch marks.”
His eyes turned sharp. “You had a baby? Who the fuck knocked you up, and how did you keep it quiet?”
My humiliation was complete. I stepped back, squatting to feel around on the floor for my top. I needed to be covered, because now he was studying my midsection.
“No one, you ass. They’re from being fat.” I squeezed my eyes shut as tears threatened again. “Just…get out.”
I wouldn’t look at him. I absolutely would not look at him.
Until he dropped to his knees in front of me and grabbed my chin.
“Whoa, honey. Calm down.”
The tears that had threatened to fall dried. It was official. Con Leahy was just as dumb as every other man on the planet. I jerked my chin from his grip. “Don’t you tell me to calm down. I’m freaking calm. You’re the one who isn’t calm.”