Page 14 of How You See Me (You and Me Duology #2)

Josie

I t’s nearly midnight when we finally roll into our spot at the RV park in Pigeon Forge. After six hours in the van, and I’m a bottle rocket with a lit fuse.

I can sit for twice that long when I’m painting, but riding shotgun in the dark with the embodiment of temptation is something entirely different.

No dream to escape to with my brushes. No distracting music.

Just an empty road, my runaway imagination, and all my energy compounding with every mile we traveled in silence.

Now that we’ve parked, he looks worn out. Probably from me making him talk more than he’s used to. I feel only a little bad about that. He keeps too much hidden, and I think that wears heavier than my pointless chatter ever could.

“The bed is all yours.” He opens the driver’s side door and slides out. "I’m going to find the showers, then crash.”

“What happened to never letting me out of your sight?” It’s late, eerily quiet, and we’re parked at the edge of a dense patch of woods. My imagination is already staging a nightmare.

“I assumed you wouldn’t want to hang out in the public restrooms. Do you?”

“Not particularly, but we haven’t stopped since we left, and I need to . . . you know.”

“Right.” He sighs, too exhausted to debate it. “Let’s go.”

I throw on a sweatshirt and pants over my summer clothes, and we head out into the cool night with only a few dusty wooden signs and a flashlight to guide us. I never thought to bring something like that. Of course, Hayes did.

He stops at the doorway to the women’s restroom and waits while I duck inside.

When I emerge, he leads the way to the men’s side.

There’s no way I’m letting him vanish and leave me in an abductor’s paradise.

No lights. No security cameras. Plenty of trees and crevices to hide behind. A shiver runs down my spine.

“I’ll be quick,” he says, catching my tremble .

I set my toothbrush and paste on the narrow sink ledge, my heart thudding louder than the insect concert outside. “I’ll wait here.”

Through the mirror, I watch him choose a stall that keeps me in view. He has younger sisters—Jordan mentioned that—and it shows in the careful ways he eases my anxieties. The way he checks on me over the low plywood door whenever his routine turns him from the spray. Not obvious. Just there.

I can’t believe I’m making eye contact with my brother’s best friend while he takes a shower. The fear prickling my skin is real, but so is the heat flowing underneath. He’s nude behind that thin, warped door, and suddenly, I don’t feel like someone’s scared sister he’s sworn to protect.

I feel desirable and fully awakened.

The water shuts off and a minute later he emerges, wearing only gym shorts. His chest glistens, droplets catching on sculpted muscle like light in glass. I can’t stop staring. I don’t even try.

I didn’t know men could look like that. Everyone I’ve ever been with didn’t have a fraction of Hayes’ bulk. They were toned but weak, male but not masculine. I think I prefer this rugged, warrior type infinitely better.

With him strolling toward me like I'm his destination, I have to grip the sink behind me to stay upright.

His spicy, clean scent consumes my space and turns my knees to jelly.

I inhale instinctively, wanting more, but that's all I can manage with him this close and oh so tempting.

All that magnificent bare skin on display threatens to cancel my resolve to keep things friendly between us.

My pulse kicks up to full Olympic sprinter pace. It’s hard work resisting pure carnal instinct when it can be satisfied by moving half a ruler’s length.

His hand hovers over the faucet dial, eyes finding me through the mirror. “What’s wrong? Did you see something?” He makes a move toward the entrance, toothbrush in hand and ready for a fight.

When I don’t answer, too mesmerized by him and his protective response, he crosses that imaginary ruler line, right up to me.

“Josie." He drops the makeshift weapon into the sink and takes hold of my arms.

I zero in on the warmth of his hands on my skin and the sparks now zipping through me. The intensity of that one simple touch dulls everything else.

Reveling in it, my gaze slowly travels from his rippled torso up to his face. He’s concerned. Concerned for me .

Even if it’s coming from a sense of duty, a promise he made to Jordan, it still counts.

“I didn't see anything.”

His hands fall away as he steps back, the distance feeling colder than the night.

“Good. I need to brush my teeth, then we’ll head back,” he says, voice edged with exhaustion.

“Me, too.” Yes. There is no need to rush this. If this became our nightly routine for the next week, I wouldn’t complain. Seeing him bare and looking too good to be true overshadows the negatives—dingy, scary public restroom and all.

We walk back in our default awkward silence, and surprisingly, Hayes breaks it first, opening the side door of the van for me.

“If you need anything, just wake me up.”

I hesitate.

“Can we argue about who deserves the mattress tomorrow?” His eyes close briefly as he takes a calming breath, surely praying for my compliance to speed up the process. “Please?”

“Sure.” I step inside and kneel by the door. “But the matter is not settled.”

“It is on my end. Good night, Josie.” He closes the door gently behind me and climbs into the passenger seat.

“You know I can still talk to you. There’s no wall separating us.”

“I’m pretending there is. And you should too.”

“Why? Tired of listening to me?”

“Only because I’ve lost . . .” He lifts his wrist, checking his watch. “Four hours of sleep.”

“You’re the one who wanted to drive this far in one night.”

“Lesson learned.” With his arms crossed, his voice trails off, replaced by long, heavy breaths.

I wish I could fall asleep that fast. After our little bathroom escapade, I’m still buzzing. My mind will be reeling with visions of Hayes in nothing but thin shorts for a long while. I may have sworn off men, but no one said I couldn’t appreciate their gorgeous anatomy.

Isn’t that why they work out so hard? Sure, his job requires him to stay in shape but not like that. When a man takes extra time to sculpt his body into an unforgettable work of art, he does it to be admired.

And I plan on admiring him every chance I get.

◆◆◆

At some point, sleep must have claimed me. I awaken curled around my sketchpad, its sharp corner digging into my ribs. I try to push it off the bed, but it doesn’t budge.

My eyes fly open. The pad pressed against a wall, and it all comes back to me. I’m not in my apartment bedroom butan adorable, antique van in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee with the hunky Marine I dreamed about last night. Yet, he’s not a dream—other than looking like one—and he’s outside.

The scent of bacon pulls me fully aware, and I peer out the window. Hayes sits by the fire, cooking on a cast iron skillet over a campfire as if it were a normal, everyday thing.

A baseball cap sits backwards on his head, and the worn fabric of his gray T-shirt stretches tight across his shoulders. The same gorgeous anatomy I got a close-up view of mere hours ago. If I could, I’d order another glance and the accompanying dopamine shot for breakfast.

Sliding open the door, I realize I’d forgotten to at least check to make sure a nipple wasn’t hanging out of my pajama top.

The oversight comes to mind when Hayes’ eyes journey from my face to the rest of me before quickly diverting his attention.

Guess there’s no sense in confirming it now.

Everyone gets the authentic me, including Hayes. Headlights and all.

I lower to the lawn chair next to him, tying my wild morning hair up into a ponytail.

“Sleep well?” he asks, not looking at me.

“Like a baby thanks to the comfy mattress. I’m scared to ask you.”

“It was fine.” He hands me a full plate—scrambled eggs, two slices of perfectly cooked bacon, and a biscuit.

My stomach growls in gratitude. “It smells amazing. Where did you get all this?”

“The barn where we checked in is also a convenience store. It had all the essentials.”

“Bacon and eggs are essentials?”

“In my world, yes. Protein is good for you.”

I take a bite of bacon and let the smokey flavor seep into my tongue. “Not bad, Sergeant.”

His eyes roll at my intentional use of the wrong title.

“Seriously. Thank you for this and for staying with me last night . . . in the bathroom. You didn’t have to. You could have told me to deal.”

“I’d never tell you that,” he quips, looking like he rather talk about any other topic.

I put him out of his misery as he does the same to the fire. “I’m excited for today. Will you ride a rollercoaster with me?” I point the fork at him. “Not one of the tall, loopy ones that make you come out of your seat. I’m sure those are the kind Marines like.”

“I don’t think I’ll fit in a kiddie coaster.”

“Ha. Maybe there will be something adult-ish but straighter.”

“Rollercoasters, by definition, aren’t straight. It’s in the name.”

“Fine. Something less loopy, then.”

He checks the time. “The park opens in an hour. Can you be ready to go in thirty?”

“Sure.”

“After you eat.”

“Yes, sir.” I shove a heaping helping of eggs into my mouth to make him happy. “So good.” I’m teasing, but this really is the best breakfast I’ve had in a while. Dry toast and cereal are my usual go-tos and not exactly filling or healthy.

“Not funny. I’ll clean up, then take you to the bathroom.”

“Aww. Look at you. I didn’t even have to ask.”

“I’m easily trained.”

“Like a puppy."

He frowns at the joke, his preferred grumpy facade gliding back into place like a mask.

He may not want me to think there’s anything puppy-like about him, but his tender side adds too many contradictions.

That side knocks me off balance and makes all sorts of bad ideas, like grabbing his stupidly handsome face and kissing him senseless, sound like good ideas .

That’s why I’m not the least bit upset about K9 Hayes making a reappearance. That hardened version of him is safe, predictable. And what I'm starting to feel toward him is nowhere near those two things.