Page 15 of Playing Dirty (Leighton U #4)

Madden

When I wake up the next morning, I find Theo fast asleep on the other side of the bed.

I didn’t hear him come in, so it must’ve been in the early hours of the morning—after I finally succumbed to sleep while waiting for him to come back to the room.

I’m surprised I slept at all, what with the weird, unsettled feeling coiled in my stomach ever since he stormed off.

As more time passed, a worry crept in at the thought of him finding some random nook or cranny to pass out in rather than coming back to the room and facing me.

Not knowing if his pride would allow him to take it that far either.

So I can’t ignore the relief I feel seeing his peaceful face beside me.

I don’t see him for the rest of the day after slipping out of bed, though. He skips out on breakfast again, and dinner too, neither of which are surprising to me. And unlike last night, I don’t bother coming up with excuses when his dad asks where he is.

I’m grateful for a bit of space—knowing the two of us could use it in order to not go at each other’s throats again—but part of me can’t help but wonder where he’s managed to hide out all day.

The resort might be rather large, but there are only so many places to go in an effort to avoid me, and I subconsciously find myself keeping more of an eye out for him.

Even as I head down to the hot tub behind the main lodge—needing to relieve some of the tension knotting my back and shoulders—I scan the halls and pathways. But just like the rest of the day, I come up short by the time I’m climbing into the steaming water.

Despite being in peak physical form thanks to the grueling conditioning I go through as a college athlete, I feel like I’ve been hit by a Mack truck.

I’m using muscles that I swear never existed until I was navigating down the slopes, and paired with all this tension Theo’s been causing, I need something to help me relax.

But even when I lean back and close my eyes, allowing the heat to soothe my aching muscles while the cool, gentle breeze floats over my exposed skin, I can’t stop my mind from wandering back to a set of light-green eyes that have begun to haunt me.

The jets are loud enough that I barely register the sound of snow crunching beneath someone’s feet, and it’s only the soft “shit” I catch floating on the breeze that has my head lifting and eyes sliding open.

Call it intuition or foresight, but part of me knew I’d find Theo when I opened my eyes. Yet the reality of him in a Leighton Baseball hoodie and swim trunks, with his towel in hand, near the edge of the hot tub, still manages to steal my ability to think.

It’s been like that most of the week, his presence causing my intestines to twist and my stomach to do little flips, but it’s become significantly more noticeable the past twenty-four hours. First at the bar, then in the lobby last night.

And now as he meets my gaze through the rising steam.

One hand brushes through his hair before he motions toward me. “I… I didn’t realize you were out here.”

Yeah, well, that makes two of us, doesn’t it?

Despite my annoyance with him, I can’t deny the rush of relief at knowing where he is, and it’s the only reason I keep the jab to myself. Instead, I shrug and offer simply, “It was too nice to pass up before we go home.”

“Yeah, I had the same thought,” he murmurs, glancing between the water and me.

Discomfort lines his features as he grapples with bolting or joining me, and finally, I take pity on him by asking, “Are you planning to stand there freezing all night, or are you getting in?”

“If you’d rather be alone, I can g—”

“It’s fine,” I cut in. Motioning toward the other side of the jacuzzi, I add, “It’s not like there isn’t plenty of room for us both.”

After all, we’ve been sharing a bed for almost a week.

Taking me at my word, Theo tosses his towel on one of the benches nearby and reaches for the hem of his hoodie. I avert my gaze, forcing myself to ignore him as he drags it over his head and throws it next to his towel.

I think the most irritating thing about him isn’t his shitty attitude or spiteful tongue but the way my body reacts to him. I hate it, especially after the hot and cold bullshit over the past couple days, mixing together emotions too potent to unpack in his presence.

Unfortunately for me, my plan to avoid the temptation my new stepbrother poses is foiled the second he lets out a sharp hiss. My attention snaps to where his half-naked form is slowly descending the stairs, finding his teeth sinking into his plush lower lip with a grimace.

“Shit, it’s hot.”

My laugh is instant. “Isn’t that kinda the point of a hot tub?”

He rolls his eyes before shooting a look my way that screams no shit, Sherlock.

“It feels like my feet are on fire after being in the snow.” There’s a slightly playful undertone in his voice when he adds, “Someone took the only pair of slippers from the room, and I didn’t want my shoes all wet after getting out. ”

I shrug. “Sorry, not sorry.”

“Of course not,” he says, a hint of amusement lacing the statement.

“It’s not like you couldn’t have stopped at the desk and asked our pal Jeremy for another pair.”

His lips part, and I wait for whatever rebuttal that’s sure to fall from them. I’ve come to expect his quick-witted remarks by now, so I’m startled when he simply nods in concession and mutters, “Fair enough.”

Well, I’ll be damned.

The quietness of nightfall settles over us, with just the sound of the jets bubbling the water filling the air. It’s comfortable, at first. It feels like a truce, in a way. A white flag to prove that, even for a moment, we can exist in peace.

But as more time passes without either of us speaking, an antsy feeling starts tingling in my extremities; an awareness of sorts, be it from his proximity or his state of undress, and it’s becoming harder and harder to ignore.

It builds to the point where all the muscles I’ve been working to relax have begun to tense all over again, knotting tighter than they were before.

Until I’m nothing more than a rubber band, pulled taut and ready to snap .

“I’m sorry about last night,” Theo murmurs out of nowhere, breaking the silence threatening to suffocate me.

His apology is so unexpected, so quietly spoken into existence, I swear it’s a figment of my imagination. It’s only when I risk a glance in his direction, finding his features drawn down in what looks like guilt, that I realize he really did say it.

Feeling my attention on him, his gaze lifts to collide with mine through the steam billowing up from the water.

“An apology is only as good as the intention behind it. So are you saying it just because you’re looking for absolution, or do you actually mean it?”

“I don’t know. A bit of both, I guess,” he replies, and I can’t help my sharp laugh in response.

“Well, at least you’re honest.”

There’s a beat of silence where he worries his lower lip, drawing my attention there for longer than I’d like. It’s only when he finally speaks again that I’m released from the trance.

“I don’t want to fight with you, okay?”

“Right,” I say, unable to stop the little scoff from coming out.

So much for being honest.

His brows draw together in a frown. “You don’t believe me?”

“It’s not like you’ve given me any reason to,” I point out with a shrug. “Your actions haven’t done anything to convince me otherwise.”

“I’m doing my best,” he says, repeating the same sentiment from yesterday. “Not everyone is as evolved as you and can just adjust at the drop of a hat.”

“So taking those frustrations out on me is the answer, right?” I ask, genuinely wanting to know the answer. “Because, from where I’m sitting, you’ve decided punishing me for a situation I also have no control over is the only way you’re gonna make yourself feel better.”

Silence falls over us as we stare at one another, and while I might not know a lot about Theo, I know to prepare for a denial. Another excuse or reason or cop-out that’s sure to follow, rather than him taking accountability for his actions, because it’s what he does.

But it doesn’t come. At least, not in the way I was expecting.

“Believe me, Madden, you haven’t seen me try taking it out on you.”

The heat in his gaze shifts the slightest amount, no longer containing frustration alone. There’s something else lingering in it now. Something more…sinister. Seductive, even. And while I have no idea if there’s meant to be an underlying innuendo in his declaration, I hear one all the same.

I feel it in his blistering glare that’s cutting through the rising steam like a hot knife in butter.

“Play with fire, and you’re gonna get burned, Teddy Bear,” I utter, the warning coming out barely more than a gruff whisper. “Especially if you keep looking at me like that.”

“I’m not looking at you like anything. ”

“Bullshit. You’ve been playing this coy little game with me most of the week.”

On the mountain, in our room, every time we’ve run into each other since arriving here, I’ve felt the way he’s been looking at me—watching me.

And yeah, I thought it was purely contempt…

until last night. But he was as subtle as a gun when we were at the bar in town, and that was before he stormed over in a fit of jealous rage.

“You’re insane.”

“Intuitive,” I amend, my gaze remaining fixed on him.

He rolls his eyes and scoffs. “All right. Enlighten me, then, Mind Reader Madden. If you’re so intuitive, then what am I thinking?”

I shift forward, leaning my elbows on my knees, as if I’m about to deliver the information he’s requested, and study him for a moment.

My gaze traces over his face, his neck and shoulders, mapping the lines and planes visible above the water’s surface.

And while he can force lies from his lips, the rest of him shows me all I need to know.

Dilated pupils, quickened breath, and flushed cheeks. Harsh swallows and a thundering pulse beneath his jaw. It’s all right there; the truth illuminated in the dim lights shining up through the water.

“I don’t need to read your mind, Theo. Not when your body is screaming.”

He snorts and shakes his head, but the tint in his cheeks deepens. “Now I think you’re the one who’s full of bullshit.”

Oh, those lips love to lie. Don’t they, Teddy Bear?

“Am I, though?”

I shift off my seat, my body slicing through the water as I wordlessly move to his side of the hot tub. He says nothing, simply watching me with fixed rage as the distance between us goes from feet to inches in under a second.

But I don’t stop once I’m seated next to him, allowing my forearm to graze his shoulder when I rest it on the edge of the tub. And then I lean in closer, my other hand sliding through the water until it comes in contact with the bench on the other side of his body, only centimeters from his thigh.

I get as close as I dare while gauging his reaction to the miniscule space between our bodies. Tension crackles and zips through the air like lightning, and I’m surprised neither of us are electrocuted when his knee brushes mine beneath the jet-bubbled water.

My gaze darts back and forth between his eyes and mouth, and when his tongue darts out over his bottom lip to wet it, I almost cave. Almost close the last bit of distance that may as well be a mile rather than inches.

There’s a pull here, I can’t deny it; a current flowing beneath the surface, doing everything in its power to drag me toward him. It’s there in spite of the way he treats my mom and me, but especially in those brief moments when his mask of disdain slips out of place.

I’ll be damned to act on it first, though.

“Want to tell me I’m full of shit now?”

His nostrils flare, and I can feel the frustration radiating off him in palpable waves. Yet, even through the guise of anger, I can feel his panic in the way his body tenses from my proximity. I can see it swirling in the light-green irises, nearly consumed by the black centers, as he stares at me.

And what’s the most obvious reason for this panic?

Catching him lying through his teeth.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

I’m about to push away from him, to put some space between us again in hopes that this mixture of lust and frustration flooding my system might start to cool. If I don’t, there’s no telling if I’ll end up drowning in him or just fucking drowning him.

But I don’t get the chance, because Theo’s hand lands on my forearm.

And those emotions?

Well, they boil over the second his lips crash into mine.