A full smile spread across her face. “Oh, you weresotransparent, Chuck. Don’t even pretend. Blasting music to wake me up andconvenientlydoing pull-ups right when I walk in? Please.”
He looked like he might deny it for a second before he grinned. “Like you said: I know your weakness. And well-played with the swimsuit, by the way. I wasn’t expecting such a swift and precise counterstrike.”
She was glad to see him out of whatever sullen mood he’d been in. “I know your weakness too.”
“Well, maybe we should agree to stop trying to sabotage each other and instead coexist for a few more weeks, because all things considered, I think we’re doing pretty well.”
“I agree.”
“Shake on it?” He thrust out his hand, and she slipped hers into it.
“Deal.”
Before the word was out of her mouth, and before she could remember they weren’t supposed to touch each other, he yanked her forward. Their bodies slammed together like waves meeting in a storm and knocked all the wind out of her lungs. His hand caught the back of her head, cupping it like it was made for that sole purpose, and he pulled her mouth toward his. Olivia didn’t even hesitate before closing the gap.
The kiss was so sudden, so shocking, andso fucking perfectthat she couldn’t do anything other than kiss him back.
It was a terrible idea.
It was an amazing idea.
It was…happening.
She opened her mouth and felt his tongue, hot and urgent against hers. He tasted like home, and she didn’t realize until that moment that she’d missed him like a piece of her own body. A low moan escaped his throat, and he wrapped his other arm around her back. She pressed into him and felt her heart thudding hard enough to bruise the both of them. He began to lift her off the floor, crushing her body to his. The move brought on a floaty feeling due in equal parts to her toes skimming the tile and him greedily pulling her as close as possible. It was everything she wanted, and everything she knew she couldn’t have. Something tight and coiled unwound in her chest, loosening freely, at the same time it seized in warning.
She put a hand on his chest and pushed him back.
He immediately broke away, setting her down, and dissolved into a flurry of apologizing. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—I’m sorry. I just…Fuck.” He spat the last word, made eye contact just long enough for her to see torment in his eyes, and pivoted for the bedroom. His footsteps echoed down the hall until the door shut with a firm snap.
Olivia was too stunned to process what had just happened. She saw her reflection, flushed and dazed, in the back windows. She felt like she’d been lit on fire. Her heart was still pounding when the bedroom door flew back open. Chuck came marching out, red-faced and still flustered.
“You know what? No. It’s better this way,” he said, and gripped her shoulders.
She thought (hoped?) he’d come back to finish what he’d started. Like Parker had said: if they were going to lose money by breaking rules, they’d better make it worth it. Her heart vaulted up into her throat when he directed her toward thebedroom with his hot hands on her skin. But as soon as she crossed the threshold, he let her go with a slight shove.
“You stay in here; I’ll sleep on the couch.” He reached around to the inside doorknob and twisted the little bar to lock it. Then he gave her another split second of anguished eye contact, before he said, “Good night,” and shut the door, closing her in.
She had whiplash, certainly. She wasn’t even sure she was breathing where she stood frozen with the hot imprint of his hands still on her arms, his lips on her mouth. Part of her brain—the majority of it, honestly—wanted to wrench the door open and charge out into the living room, where she would demand an explanation but, in all likelihood, tackle him and go back to kissing him before he could give one. And then they’d put that damned flat-box couch to the test and see if it could withstand what she was sure would be a furious and desperate reunion.
But the sliver of her brain not drowning in a hedonistic hormone soup commanded her to keep the door locked and her hands to herself. Chuck had had the sense to separate them before things got carried away, and opening the door would only be throwing a lit match on an already sparking tinderbox.
She took a very deep breath and sat on the foot of the bed. She pulled out her phone to stage an intervention on herself by texting Mansi.
Chuck just kissed me.
Mansi, bless her, immediately responded.
Is this a yellow bikini text, or…?
No. It’s an I’m confused text.
What happened?
I don’t know. One moment we were standing in the hall talking, and the next, he kissed me. Then he locked me in the bedroom and went to sleep on the couch.
He locked you in the bedroom?
Yes.