Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 83550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
As much as I tried to ignore him in the crowd, that was impossible. After a handful of minutes, I stopped trying to pretend and kept my attention locked on him until it felt like I was dancing solely for him.
That’s not something I ever imagined myself wanting to do.
The thought sends a prickle down my spine, and my gaze flicks to the side, realizing I’m no longer alone. In the reflection, I catch a glimpse of him leaning against the doorframe, his sharp jawline and broad shoulders unmistakable. He doesn’t belong here. His presence clashes with the carefully curated elegance of the space.
I force my attention back to my reflection, and press the wipe harder against my skin, as if scrubbing away more than just makeup. My pulse quickens. I don’t want him here. I don’t want him to see me like this—stripped of the armor I wear outside this place. But more than that, I don’t want to think about how his gaze feels like a physical caress, trailing over me even when I’m not looking.
Bridger doesn’t speak or move.
He’s just there, a steady presence I can’t ignore.
The weight of his stare presses against my skin, making my hand shake as I dab at the stubborn eyeliner clinging to the corner of my eye. The makeup wipe slips, leaving a dark smudge across my temple.
I release a shuddering breath.
The shuffle of his footsteps makes me glance up, and suddenly, he’s right behind me, close enough that his cologne, along with the scent of clean soap, fills my lungs. His eyes catch mine in the mirror, and for a moment, neither of us speak.
“You missed a spot,” he says softly, his voice low and rough.
“I’ve got it.” My hand trembles as I try to fix the smudge, but the wipe catches, smearing the black streak further.
“Clearly.”
Before I can protest, he reaches forward and takes the makeup remover from my hand. His fingers graze mine, sending a jolt through me.
“Hey—” I start, but he’s already tilting my chin upward, his touch surprisingly gentle as he wipes the smudge away.
My breath catches.
I should be annoyed, mortified even, but all I can do is stare at him. He’s too close, his features more defined in the fluorescent light of the dressing room. The strong line of his jaw, the sharp angle of his cheekbones, the way his lips quirk ever so slightly as he concentrates.
He’s ridiculously handsome.
The realization stirs emotions I’ve tried so hard to bury.
“There,” he says, his voice softer now. “All clean.”
Our eyes meet, and for a second, it feels like the room shrinks, leaving just the two of us. My heart pounds against my rib cage. I hate that he can affect me so easily. That he’s always had this power over me. I tug my chin from his hand, needing to shatter the moment.
“Why don’t you wait in the car,” I say, my voice steadier than I feel. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
His mouth twitches, as if he’s about to argue. Instead, he nods and takes a step in retreat. “Don’t take too long.”
The door closes behind him, and a puff of air escapes me as I turn to the mirror. My reflection stares back at me, flushed and wide-eyed. I pull my robe tighter around myself and shake my head, trying to snap out of the daze.
“You okay, hon?” Megan asks, walking past with a towel slung over her shoulder.
“Yeah,” I mutter, fumbling for my clothes.
She glances toward the door Bridger disappeared through. “That guy yours? He’s hot.”
“No,” I say quickly. “He’s just someone I know from school.”
She raises a brow but doesn’t push. “Lucky you.”
I roll my eyes and pull on my jeans, trying not to think about how ridiculous it is to associate the word lucky with Bridger Sanderson.
Lucky would be not feeling this weird pull toward him.
Lucky would be not sharing a house or a bed with him.
As I stuff my phone into my bag, a notification pops up from ColdAsIce17. My fingers hover over the screen for a moment before I open it.
ColdAsIce17
Thanks for what you said earlier. You being there means a lot.
My heart constricts.
Me
Anytime.
I hit send and close the app before I get sucked into a conversation with him. Once we get started, it’s difficult to stop. With a wave to a few of the girls, I grab my bag and head for the parking lot where Bridger is waiting. As soon as I slide into the passenger seat, the atmosphere turns suffocating. The silence between us is heavy, thick with things that remain unsaid. I rack my brain for something that will lighten the mood but there’s nothing.
My mind is blank.
At this point, I’d take snarking back and forth like we usually do, over the explosive tension brewing between us like an impending storm. Any moment, it’s going to break. I’m afraid of what will happen when it does.