My mouth goes dry. My cock gets hard.
I turn away before she notices, pretending to rifle through my suitcase. But breathing is a struggle, and I’d be a lying bastard if I said I didn’t want to stare more.
“Were you talking to someone?” she asks, crossing the room to pick up her phone.
“Fay Henderson,” I tell her, forcing myself not to look at any part of her above her feet.
“She called?” Echo squeaks.
“She wants to offer you a job.”
“Really?” Her feet glide across the carpet and stop inches from me.
“Yeah.” I pluck a T-shirt and some shorts from my suitcase. They don’t match, and I don’t care. I need to escape to the bathroom and shut the door between us before I look through her nightgown again…and my will to keep my hands to myself evaporates. “Be right back.”
But before I can make it to safety, Echo stops me with a touch. “Wait. You’re sure?”
Her voice tugs at the soft spot I’ve had for her since we were kids. I need to reassure her. Echo’s big golden eyes are so wide and earnest. Her rosy lips part. I can’t stop thinking of them under mine. Her tits brush my chest.
I don’t dare move any closer. In fact, if I don’t get the fuck away, I’m worried I’ll stop caring she’s my best friend, and I’ll do something to irrevocably cross the line.
“Positive. Call her. She’s excited to talk to you.” Then I wrench away, covering my erection with my clothes, and slam the bathroom door between us.
I start the shower. Not twenty-four hours ago, I was too noble to jack off to thoughts of Echo. I’m not too proud this morning.
But my few minutes of meaningless, one-handed pleasure barely takes off my edge. As soon as I end the shower, I hear Echo squeeing and sighing.
I’m suddenly hard again.
We’ve been friends for most of my life, and suddenly I can’t stop seeing her as something more. How much longer can I go on like this? I’ve been aware of her as a woman for a handful of hours, and it feels like an eternity. How will I last months—or years—wanting Echo and always having her near me but not with me?
I don’t know, but I need to figure some shit out. She’s looking to lose her virginity right now. I either have to let her go with someone else or man up…and deal with the fallout later.
And if it turns out you’re an asshole like your father, she’ll always regret you.
I’ve got to distract her until she finds the right man…somehow.
“Hayes,” she calls through the door. “I got the job!”
“Congratulations, shortcake.” I toss on my clothes and grab my toothbrush.
“The starting salary is better than I expected, and she’s so sweet. I hate lying to her…but I don’t want to date her son. Thanks for agreeing to do dinner with them. It should only be once. Does the Sunday we get back work for you?”
Not really, since I’ll have to touch her, kiss her, act like I love her…and somehow not jump on her. “Sure.”
“Yay! We have to celebrate!”
Two minutes later, my mouth feels minty fresh. After tousling my hair with some product, I open the door, praying Echo is dressed.
She’s not.
Instead, she unwound the towel from her head, and her dripping hair has slowly wet her nightgown. Worse, the sunlight slants through the window, backlighting her body.
I. Can. See. Everything.
Holy shit.
Jacking off was a waste of time and energy.
Forcing my gaze out the window, I sort through my options. There aren’t many, and they all suck. Then an idea hits me. It’s unhinged, and I’m already questioning my sanity. But as long as Echo parades around our room wearing next to nothing, I don’t have any.
“Absolutely. We’ll celebrate. Why don’t you get dressed? We’ll grab breakfast, then have some fun. And I’d like to talk to you.”
She approaches, head cocked, eyes soft. “About what?”
“I have a proposition.”
Echo looks intrigued, but she shrugs. “Sure. Let me finish getting ready.”
She disappears into the bathroom, and it’s great to breathe again. But I start pacing. Am I really doing this?
What better choice do you have?
As Echo starts the blow dryer, her phone buzzes. I grab it. There’s a text from Xavian. Came out for an early surf and met a girl. Don’t worry. I’ll still be good to go tonight.
Fuck. I don’t have any choice at all. Time to get sneaky.
The room service menu is full of things I’m sure Echo will enjoy so I order a few, along with a bottle of champagne. Maybe that will make what I’m about to suggest a little easier for her to say yes.
I feel guilty for the subterfuge…but this is for her own good.
As I’m hanging up, she comes out of the bathroom with her hair half dry, curling softly around her shoulders. And somehow, her nightgown is even more transparent. If I had any question at all about the exact shade of her nipples, I don’t anymore.