And despite everything—my pounding heart, my flushed face—I can’t help but laugh too.
“Not even a little,” I whisper.
“So, uh, how are we going to do this?”
9
Jaxon
“How about I get up, grab my clothes, and make a mad dash to the bathroom,” she says, her back to me.
I gesture with a nod to the door even though she can’t see me. “Okay, then I’ll head to the spare room and hunt down my pants.” A laugh breaks out of me before I can stop it.
I glance over my shoulder and she half turns to me, her brow lifted. “What?”
“You’d think we’ve never seen a person naked before.”
“Well,” she shoots back, tilting her head with a smirk, “I’ve never seen that kind of naked before.”
I blink and glance down at myself, noting the way my early morning wood is tenting sheets. Down boy. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She gestures vaguely at me, grinning over her shoulder. “You know exactly what it means.”
My laugh fades into something softer. “What, that I’m not your hot coffee shop guy? Handsome, sure, but not your type?”
A snort escapes her, quick and genuine. “Jaxon, please. You’re everyone’s type. But let’s be real.” She puts her hand in front of herself and waves it up and down her body. “You’ve never seen this kind of naked before.”
Her tone is teasing, but there’s a flicker underneath it. Insecurity. Doubt. Something that makes me stop pretending this is just fun banter between friends. Friends who are naked in bed together, sure, but friends none the less.
“What I see,” I say, voice lower now, “is a woman who’s curvy and sexy as hell. With thighs that could make a man forget his own name.”
Her entire body goes still, like I’ve crossed some invisible line. And maybe I have, but hell if I’m going to let her walk away without knowing how I see her.
“You know,” she says quietly, not meeting my eyes. “I was a little overweight as a kid.”
There it is. The soft spot she hides behind her humor.
I let out a slow whistle. “Good thing, too. Because whatever you carried back then, you turned it into art now. Every curve, every soft line, it’s like your body knew exactly where to put the beauty.”
The sheets rustle as I shift closer, not touching, just close enough for her to feel me there.
She huffs, still not fully buying it. “I’m no bunny, Jax. Which means I’m not your type.”
“You’re right,” I murmur. “You’re no bunny. You’re something rarer. The kind of sexy that sneaks up on a guy and ruins him for everyone else.”
She finally turns to face me, eyes narrowed like she’s searching for the lie. She doesn’t find one.
After a beat, she laughs, trying to shake off the moment. “Close your eyes, Lumber-Jax. I’m making my escape.”
I do as I’m told, grinning into the darkness. The sheet whispers against her skin, the sound of fabric and fumbling filling the room. Her footsteps hit the floor, the bathroom door clicks shut, and the distant rush of water starts.
“Breakfast?” I call out.
“I don’t have a lot of time,” she answers through the door, voice muffled by the spray.
I stand and start toward the door. “You still have to eat something.”
“Coffee’s good.”