Chapter 21

I’ve been standing in front of the windows just staring out at the ocean in some kind of a trance, watching the water dance beneath the sun. For so long, in fact, I don’t even hear the door to the bathroom open.

“Your turn.”

I startle from the sound of Harley’s gravelly voice behind me, and I turn quickly, immediately wishing I hadn’t. Surrounded by a plume of steam swirling around him as it escapes the bathroom, he’s barely even covered by a towel wrapped around his waist, hanging so low on his hips my eyes are instantly drawn to the V-lines of his pelvis, to the light smattering of hair that leads from his belly button down into the depths of the great unknown. Water droplets drip from the lengths of his wet curls, gliding down over his taut skin, trailing over the peaks and valleys of his tattooed chest.

I do everything I can to force my eyes back up but, when I do, I can’t help but notice the hint of a smirk playing on his lips as he watches me, and I know right at that moment that I’ve been caught outwardly ogling him. My cheeks immediately heat and I gasp when I realize I haven’t taken a breath, coughing to disguise my obvious reaction. Turning quickly, I reach for my overnight bag and busy myself with rifling through its contents, grabbing what I need, fully aware of Harley watching me from the small space between the foot of the bed and the bathroom door. With a change of clothes under my arm and my bathroom caddy clutched within a death-like grip, I avoid his knowing gaze as I step past him, holding my breath as I brush against his warm, wet body.

And once I’m in the safety of the bathroom, I practically slam the door shut behind me, collecting myself as best I can as I take the moment I need.

I thought another shower might help wash away some of the confusion racking my mind and my body, but it does nothing of the sort. It does the opposite, actually. All I could think about while I stood beneath the warm flowing water was the fact that Harley’s wet, naked body had been standing in the exact same spot only moments earlier. Then I began thinking all sorts of highly inappropriate things, so I got out of there as fast as I could without slipping on the wet tile and killing myself.

Now, as I stand here staring at myself in the slightly foggy mirror, dressed in my jean shorts and bra, I’m in a much worse state than I was before, if that’s even possible.

Damn him and his perfect body. Damn those tattoos. Damn that look he gets in his eyes when it’s as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking when I shouldn’t be thinking anything of the sort. Damn Harley Shaw. And damn me. In fact, damn Nash. He should never have invited me on his damn bachelor party. I have no place being here. I absolutely should never have said yes. I should’ve just stayed at home, alone, where I belong. The whole party is going to end in disaster if I don’t get my emotions in check. I swear, I’m like a 14-year-old girl, giddy and fumbling for no reason. I need to steer clear of Harley for the rest of the trip.