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Once done with that and clad in my jammies, I filled my lungs with a
deep and hopefully energizing breath and returned to the bedroom.
I didn’t know what I had expected to find, but I was surely not prepared
for the sight of Aaron in only a pair of sleeping pants. They hung low on his
hips—so low that I could see the waistband of his underwear—and they were
a dark shade of gray that complemented his skin.
My gaze trailed up, and there it was. That glorious chest that I had
witnessed shining under the sun with droplets of sweat that—
Jesus, no, no, no.
I needed to stop gawking. Eating him with my eyes as if I had never seen
a naked chest before. It couldn’t be healthy. Good for my mental health.
Turning away from him a little too briskly, I fumbled with my discarded
clothes. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him slip on a short-sleeved
shirt.
Good. That was definitely good. Cover those chiseled pecs and abs,
stupidly flawless man who loves Up.
I opened the drawer of the narrow dresser and stared into it. Realizing I
didn’t need anything from there, I closed it again. I threw open one of the
wardrobe doors and realized the same damn thing. Cursing under my breath
at my evident show of stupidity, I sensed Aaron move behind me.
My hands twisted the clothes I was holding into a ball.
A soft brush on the back of my arm derailed my inner pep talk,
immediately lighting on fire my attempts to convince myself I was cool and
unaffected.
“What’s wrong?” He skimmed those fingers up and down the back of my
arm. “You are fidgeting.”
“Nothing is wrong. I’m okay,” I lied, and I heard my own voice shake.
“I’m … cool.”
I so wasn’t.
Aaron flickered his fingers one last time across my skin as I remained
with my back to him. It felt like he was waiting for something, and when the
silence that followed my comment stretched, he sighed. “I’ll sleep on the
floor.”
His voice had sounded all wrong, so I finally turned to face him. He was
walking away, so I reached for his arm, wrapping my slender fingers around
his wrist. I could feel his pulse against my skin.
“Don’t,” I whispered. “I told you, you don’t have to. We will sleep on the