Lies were boring, and I liked that he saw me.
Even if it was for something as depressing and morbid as my interminable sadness.
Spinning back to the hot tub, I set the half-empty bottle of whiskey down on the edge of it. Curling the hem of my shirt into my palms, I lifted it off and tossed it aside. Next went my white button-down shorts, and I kicked them off and over to the side with my shirt.
James was still and silent, not stomping away as I shed my clothes or scolding me to get dressed with his whiplash rage. Down to my simple red underwear and matching bra, James didn't do anything but tattoo the burn of his hot stare beneath every stitch of naked skin I bore to him.
Taking the first step up towards the hot tub, I paused and curved my chin over my shoulder to find him watching.
“I didn’t sleep with Demitri.” Soon as I said it, his sharp jaw clenched. Pulsed. “Not last night.”
I didn’t stay to watch his reaction, pivoting instead back to the hot tub and climbing the last steps. A moan split my lips apart as pleasurable heat swallowed up my toes, feet, legs, all the way to my stomach as I sank into the water.
Head lolling back, I inhaled steam-drenched air with closed eyes, stretching my fingers out beneath the boiling water. Warmth massaged every muscle of mine, working out the tension like sucking poison from my body. I sank deeper, hot water and bubbles enveloping up to my shoulders.
Blindly, I waded to the far side of the tub until I found somewhere to sit. Another content sigh tiptoed out of my mouth as I laid my head back, feeling all light and loose and fuzzy.
Rustling movement was happening outside of the tub where I’d left James, but I didn’t crack an eye to see what he was doing.
I did crack a small smile when I felt the brush of water sway around me as another body added itself to the steaming pool.
And finally. The storm rests.
James stayed on his side.
I stayed on mine.
Engine fueled bubbles saturated the silence as a welcomed white noise while James and I remained quiet.
Time felt like it sort of warped around us, minutes stalling out and seconds dissolving into the water. Everything was on pause, as if we’d crawled into this hot tub and sank into a momentary oblivion where feeling and thinking and hurting weren’t allowed.
Even dragging my eyelids open was a haggard feat, and the reward was a shitty view of the inside of the roof.
I blinked up at it, humming and sighing.
“I wish I could see the stars.”
Rushing water filled the beat before I heard James rumble over it.
“You like star gazing?”
“I like anything that’s not grounded here. Stars, birds, the clouds.”
Off in the trees, something tittered in the brush, and a few leaves or twigs snapped. My head drooped in the noise’s direction, lazy eyes searching the blackness for the cute woodland culprit. I didn’t see anything, and frigid disappointment was moments from setting in until the surprise of James’ velvet voice pushed it away.
“My parents don’t live too far from here, and there’s this spot in the backwoods at their house where I’d sneak off to at night when I was younger to look for falling stars. I saw one once when we were camping and became a little obsessed with finding one again.”
Picking my head up, I looked across at him, a little astonished. I didn’t realize I was smiling until I felt the effort in my cheeks.
“Did you ever see another one?”
His eyes were open but aimed up at the roof as he slowly shook his head. “No, but I kept sneaking out there anyway because I liked the stars.”
In his tone, every piece of himself he gave to me was like he needed permission from some force he allowed to rule over him. The personal admission sounded unpracticed and unsure, and I so badly wanted him to look at me while he figured out how to say what he wanted to me.
A few more moments passed before he let himself share again.
“There’s this desert in South America that apparently has the clearest sky on Earth. They say you can see millions of stars from there. I always planned on going someday.”