Page 66 of Return Policy
The bathroom door opens, and I glance up, expecting Elijah to be fully dressed. He steps into the room, a black towel wrapped low around his waist as steam pours out from behind him. All negative thoughts relating to my ex vanish quicker than beer at a frat party.
My lips part open, and every coherent thought in my mind dissipates as Elijah runs a hand through his dark, wet, unstyled hair. I have an unrestricted view of the beautiful black and gray deer tattooed dead center on his chest, with two small cardinals perched on the antlers. It’s intricate and beautiful, and my God is it sexy.
I hungrily drink in the full view of the tattoos on his arms, including a raven wrapped around his bicep, only shifting my focus when I notice water droplets gliding down his hard-earned abs, along his V, and disappearing under the towel.
My eyes are glued on his gorgeous body, and I try to speak, but words fail me entirely as I gaze at the sexiest fucking man I haveeverseen.
He grins but doesn’t comment on my embarrassing as shit reaction to seeing him in nothing but a towel.
Way to play it cool, you IDIOT.
Elijah walks past me to his closet, and my eyes follow him like the damn Mona Lisa. He turns away, allowing me to unabashedly savor the sight of his ripped shoulders down to the dimples of his back, and fuck if I don’t see stars.
I’m more screwed than a rabbit during mating season.
“How much longer do you need, Honey Bee?” I tease to distract myself from the image of a steamy, half-naked Elijah that’s been stored away as a core memory.
I’ll be adding that to my spank bank, thank you very much.
“That depends.” He turns to face me with a playful grin dancing on his lips. “Do you need more time to eye fuck me before I put my clothes on, baby?”
Busted.
My mouth falls open, cheeks flushing with heat. “I am not! Oh my God, you’re the worst.”
He places a warm hand around my ankle and squeezes lightly. “You love me.”
“I like you.”
“Well, that’s an improvement.”
* * *
The party is already in full swing when we arrive after picking up the girls. Elijah agreed to remain our designated driver for the rest of the night since I was already three margaritas deep by the time we got to his apartment earlier. I’m blaming my lack of chill regarding seeing him half naked on the tequila.
I wasn’t affected like that at the beach, but there was something intimate about being in his bedroom and knowing the only layer covering him was an easily droppable towel.
“Noah lives here with Desmond,” Elijah says, holding open the front door for me and the girls. “Theo and I are supposed to move in next year.”
“This would be a hell of an upgrade.” The modern, open concept house has people scattered all over the living room, dining area, and kitchen. It seems to be the entire football team, along with the complete female population of Crystal Bay.
A game of quarters is in full swing on the kitchen island, a freshman’s doing a keg stand in the corner, and people are shaking their asses off on a makeshift dance floor in the living room.
“Hey! Glad you guys could make it.” Noah greets each of us with a hug. “There’s liquor and a keg in the kitchen. Help yourselves.” In the same breath, he’s gone, having dragged Elijah along with him.
“Damn, we’re in school for two months and already got invited to a party for the fucking football team,” Sage says.
“They invitedme,” I clarify teasingly.
“Whatever, potato, potahto. Let’s get fucking wasted,” she says before darting off to the kitchen.
“I love that little party animal,” I say to Charlie.
“Yeah,” she agrees as Julian envelops Sage in a hug before handing her a drink. “It’s good to see her enjoying life, you know?”
“Totally.”
Charlie pulls out her phone, frowns deeply, then immediately shoves it back in her pocket.
