As I hang up, fold, and put away my clothes, a scrap of blue fabric falls to the floor. I reach for it, thinking it’s my underwear, but instead, I pick up the top of one of my bikinis–which I don’t remember packing. I think of the pool outside–and then of Max seeing me in the swimsuit, and a flush starts to creep up my neck, my skin heating.
A knock comes at the door, and I nearly jump out of my skin.
“Sasha?” Max’s voice is on the other side, and I scurry to answer it, forgetting that I’m still holding the bikini top.
“Hey!” I open the door, and his eyes immediately flick down to my hand.
“Hey–what is that?” He glances at it curiously, and I canfeelmyself blushing as my hand tightens around the fabric.
“I–it’s my swimsuit. I didn’t pack it. Did you grab it before we left?” I can feel my blush deepening at the idea that Max might have put a bikini in my luggage–which, now that I think about it, seems entirely improbable. But I’ve already said it out loud.
He laughs, although the sound seems to stick in his throat. “No, I didn’t. Maybe Caterina? She probably was hoping you could get some rest and relaxation out by the pool while you’re here. Which is a good idea.”
“I was thinking that, too.”
“There’s plenty of places you could use it here, actually.” Max clears his throat, and I think I see him shift his weight back and forth briefly. “There’s the pool and hot tub out back, obviously–and the indoor gym and yoga room has a sauna. Of course, some people like to be unclothed in the sauna, but–”
“I’ll start with the pool, I think,” I say quickly, deciding to have mercy on him–and me–before his mind goes any further down the path of me naked and sweating in a sauna. “It looks like a nice day out. Bright and sunny.”
“It is.” Max scratches the back of his neck, and I think I see a soft, ruddy flush on the olive skin at the base of his collar. “I’ll let you get to it, then.”
“I’ll be down in a few minutes. You’re welcome to join me if you want,” I offer, and he nods, starting back down the stairs as I close the door behind me.
I feel more than a little self-conscious as I change into the bikini. I’ve always been slender, but my illness left me on the thin side of that. My chest looks a bit smaller than before, my arms and thighs thinner, and my hips and butt lacking some of the curves I had before.Time to make use of that yoga room, too,I think to myself as I tie the bikini string behind my neck, scooping my strawberry blonde hair atop my head and securing it with a clip.
A part of me hopes that Max isn’t downstairs when I head down–both because of my own self-consciousness and because I don’t want to tease him. Or rather–Ido, but I know I shouldn’t, not when he’s so clearly trying to resist anything happening between the two of us again. But, it turns out, as luck would have it, he’s walking through the hall as I reach the foot of the stairs, and I stop dead, my heart hammering in my chest.
He pauses, still looking away from me, as if he’s unsure whether he should look back or not. And then he turns, slowly, almost as if he can’t help himself.
We both freeze in place for a moment. We’ve seen each other naked, and yet this particular moment, looking at each other from a few feet away, Max struggling not to let his gaze slide over my half-clothed body feels more erotically charged than even that did.
“Do you–do you want to come to the pool with me?” The words sound idiotic even to my own ears, but I can’t think of anything else to say. I canfeelhim staring at my face, trying not to devour me with his eyes, and every part of me wants to beg him to anyway.
Max swallows hard. “I can’t.”
The next word comes out before I can stop it. “Why?”
His eyes narrow, a hint of frustration flashing in them suddenly. “You know why.”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I’d meant to tell him I was heading out then, to turn and walk away, but I feel frozen to the spot. The pain throbs through me again–not physical, but emotional, a tearing, longing ache for something that I should never have had at all and now want desperately.
“Tell me again,” I whisper softly, feeling my heart in my throat. “Remind me why, because I can’t remember.”
He hesitates, and I think I see a shudder go through him, his eyes still fixed on my face.
“You look beautiful,” Max says softly. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Sasha. I want–” That shudder goes through him again, and I see his hands clench at his sides. “God knows I don’t want to disappoint you or tell you no, or spend a single second of the day not laughing with you. But every time I’m near you, I want to touch you–and so much more than that.”
“More?” The word comes out a squeak, my hand gripping the banister of the stairs as if my knees might give out. “Max–”
He steps forward as if he can’t help himself. “I want to taste you–devouryou. I can’t get you out of my head, Sasha, and every moment I keep doing this to us is torturing us both. Neither of us can leave, so I need to just–”
“I want that, too,” I whisper softly. I shouldn’t say it, I know that, but the words slip out anyway. “I haven’t stopped thinking about that night, Max–I–I want more. I told you–and I still mean it. I–”
“We can’t.” His voice is sharp, clipped suddenly. “I meant it too, Sasha. We can’t.”
He turns quickly, shoes clacking on the hard floor as he walks away, and for a moment, I feel as if my kneeswillgive out, it was so sudden. I know why–it wasn’t meant to hurt me, but to tear himself away before he said or did something he felt he shouldn’t. But itdoeshurt, and for a moment, I want nothing more than to turn and flee back upstairs, hiding away.
But that won’t solve anything. I bite my lip, forcing the welling emotions down, and keep walking out towards the back doors and the waiting pool beyond.