Chapters (48)
- 1. One
- 2. Two
- 3. Three
- 4. Four
- 5. Five
- 6. Six
- 7. Seven
- 8. Eight
- 9. Nine
- 10. Ten
- 11. Eleven
- 12. Twelve
- 13. Thirteen
- 14. Fourteen
- 15. Fifteen
- 16. Sixteen
- 17. Seventeen
- 18. Eighteen
- 19. Nineteen
- 20. Twenty
- 21. Twenty-One
- 22. Twenty-Two
- 23. Twenty-Three
- 24. Twenty-Four
- 25. Twenty-Five
- 26. Twenty-Six
- 27. Twenty-Seven
- 28. Twenty-Eight
- 29. Twenty-Nine
- 30. Thirty
- 31. Thirty-One
- 32. Thirty-Two
- 33. Thirty-three
- 34. Thirty-Four
- 35. Thirty-Five
- 36. Thirty-Six
- 37. Thirty-Seven
- 38. Thirty-Eight
- 39. Thirty-Nine
- 40. Forty
- 41. Forty-One
- 42. Forty-Two
- 43. Forty-three
- 44. Epilogue
- Afterword
- Also by
- Acknowledgments
- About Author
“Ugh, fine.” I reluctantly looked away, and after a brief moment, I heard her clothes shifting. She made a brr noise like she was shivering, and a small amount of guilt filtered through me.
I turned to hand her a towel, but before I could even say anything she shouted, “Turn around!”
I closed my eyes and held out the towel, which she ripped out of my hands, and I swore I heard her whisper, “Pervert.”
I let out a belly laugh and said, “That’s the last time I try to help you.”
She groaned in pain and I asked, “What’s wrong?”
My eyes were shut, but my arms jutted out in her direction, ready to blindly help.
She slapped away one of my hands and said, “Nothing. These stupid heels are killing my feet.”
Once she was dressed in my T-shirt with the towel wrapped around her shoulders, I looked around the corner to make sure no one was around and unbuttoned my pants.
“What are you doing?” Olive whispered sharply through her chattering teeth.
I glanced around. “Um. Getting in. What does it look like I’m doing?”
She squinted her eyes. What did she expect? I wasn’t getting in there with pants on. Realistically, I could have grabbed a pair of Coop’s swim trunks from the locker room, but where was the fun in that?
I stripped down to my black boxer briefs and pretended to not notice Olive blushing in the corner. I dipped a hand in the hot tub and winced at the heat.
We both eased our way into the hot water and relaxed against opposite sides. I reached out and pulled her tiny sore foot into my lap, rubbing my thumbs deep into her soles.
Olive moaned the same way she said my name earlier in the night, and I fought to not pull her all the way to me.
“Why are you so good at this?” She asked in a frustrated tone. As if she was saying, “Why didn’t you pay your taxes on time?” and not complimenting me on my massage skills. I huffed out a small laugh.
“I used to have to work out knots in my legs after skiing. I got pretty good at it over the years.” I may have dug into the same spot where she let out that previous sweet moan, wanting to hear it again.
“Yeah, you did,” she said in a strained voice that made my shoulders bounce with a chuckle.