The Girl in the Mirror (Sand & Fog #3) (20 page)

My enormous bed feels small, but in an unexpectedly good way. I like his hard body pressed against mine. Which is new for me. But it’s not overly clinging, just sort of primal and protective. Like he’s thinking of me even in sleep.

I’ve never allowed that cuddling thing before. Daryl, if he slept over, knew to give me distance. Part of my avoiding serious emotional attachment to a guy. Dance took precedence, my interest in guys limited, and a quasi-relationship worked.

From the moment sex became an interest, Daryl seemed a better way to go than being one of those girls who randomly hooked up.

Maybe I should rethink that.

This is uncharted territory.

Face it, Krystal, you’ve done a random hookup and you don’t feel badly about it, even knowing Jacob is probably thinking of this as only a hookup as well.

I turn carefully out of his arms and slowly reach onto the bedside table for my cell. Damn. It’s after 11:00 a.m. But then we did make the most of the night.

What’s with all the notifications? My family can be such stalkers. Then I smile. They helped give me one unforgettable party—I’m still blown away—that ended with one amazing after-party with Jacob.

I scroll through the notifications, my thoughts on Jacob. Jeez, we were good together. Better than anything ever was with Daryl. Maybe the trick to having mind-blowing sex is not knowing the guy.

Yeah?

Maybe?

Gosh, that makes me sound like a skank.

Who cares?

It was hot.

I’m laughing even as my cheeks grow hotter.

Maddy: Heard sounds all night from your room. I’m assuming you guys stopped fighting. You still alive?

Me:
Barely. Crackling tension gone. He’s so cute when he sleeps.

Rapid response.

Maddy:
You’ve got it bad, K-bell. Hate to ruin your morning. Get a move on unless you want an audience. Cleaners will be here in an hour. You can give me details over breakfast.

I click off my phone and turn to wake Jacob.

My heart jumps.

Wide open hazel eyes.

The way he’s looking at me surrounds me with a pleasant kind of intimacy I’ve never felt before.

I shake off my impulse to kiss him. “How long have you been awake and watching me?”

“This time?” His does that adorable little squinting while counting thing. “About two minutes.”

I blush, blinking my eyes to lessen the effect of staring at him. “This time, huh?”

His arm slowly raises until his palm is cupping my neck and his fingers dance in my hair beneath my ear. “I like waking up to see you sleeping beside me. And I like finding you in bed in the morning.”

He lifts upward for a kiss, the scent of him filling my senses. Maddy’s right. I must have it bad. I like even the way he smells in the morning. He touches his lips to mine, sweetly gentle, a sharp contrast to how we were in the darkness. There’s no demand but I melt beneath him on the bed anyway.

It’s terrifying how good this feels and how quickly my body screams for more.

I end the kiss first, pushing back into the pillow and groaning as I plant my hands on him to keep him back.

Jacob’s eyes widen. “I’m sorry. Too much? Too soon?” He frowns. “Or too early?”

The way he stares at me makes my lower muscles clench, a clear answer to that, and I sink my teeth hard into my lower lip in an effort to ignore it. Can this be me? Giddy girl in the morning, blushing and wanting more.

“No, wrong on all of those,” I say slowly, smiling. “Too little time. We need to get out of here.”

Jacob scans my face once, then rolls off me to sit up, hugging his legs. “Oh.”

After scooping up my panties and his t-shirt from the floor, I wiggle into them without coming completely from under the blankets—
can I be more of a dork? He’s seen me nude
—then I climb from the bed.

It’s not lost on me that he doesn’t move to stop me. I expected Jacob to try or at least to push a little to get me to stay in bed. I’m annoyed and let down that he didn’t.

He turns onto his side, cheek in palm. “So what’s the plan today?”

Willing myself not to look at him, I start pulling clothes from my bag. “I don’t know that there is one.”

“Then why the rush this morning? I was sort of liking how the day began.”

He sounds disappointed, cutely disappointed.

I glance over my shoulder at him. “Can’t. Housekeepers will be here soon.”

His mouth does a wide circle as he says, “Oh.” He tosses back the blankets and moves to sit on the edge of the bed. My gaze locks on how he looks naked and sleep tousled, using his palms to rub the drowsiness from his eyes.

Adorable.

He’s not just gorgeous, he’s weak-knees-making adorable.

Damn. Damn. Damn.

Don’t look.

I turn back to my bag. Black short shorts. They’re new, though not in a strict sense. I bought them months ago and haven’t worn them. Tight. Short. And hoochie mama. I should never go shopping with Madison. I always end up with bags full of
very not me
. No wonder the tags are still on them.

I almost pull them out then shove them back in. Shit, why can’t I decide on an outfit this morning? Maybe I could if I wasn’t suddenly shallow-breathed, overheating, and unable to think.

“Do you mind if I take a shower first?”

His voice is quiet and calm, the opposite of me at this moment. But then, I don’t have a lot of experience at this. Waking up with a guy I don’t really know. Or waking up with guys at all, because Daryl and I hardly ever did morning.

“No, have at it. But don’t take forever, OK? I’ve still got to shower, too.”

Damn—that came out sounding all kinds of snotty.

“Five minutes. I promise. I know better than to hog a bathroom with a girl.”

He drops a kiss on my hair before he starts moving around the room, grabbing the condoms from the floor to toss them in the trash. My cheeks turn into a burn. Three? Did we really do it three times last night? I follow him with my gaze as he starts pulling things from his duffel.

Crap, why is this so hard for me and easy for Jacob?

Fudge, that
I know better
comment bugs me. Knowing he’s familiar with this as I sit here awkward and fumbling. But then he’s older. Five years older. He’s probably done this a lot with girls.

Shaking my head, I jerk something else from the suitcase. Why can’t I find anything sort of neutral cute? Oh, that’s hideous. Maddy would be right to say that about this dress.

I feel Jacob behind me, realizing he’s crouched there, and his hands close on my shaking arms. “How much time do we have before we need to leave, Krystal?”

I collapse away from my bag and into Jacob’s chest. “Why?”

His chest shimmies with quiet laughter. “Maybe because I’m wondering how much time we have.”

He sprays kisses across my head and I feel my last bit of inner calm take flight. God, I’m acting like an idiot. And it shouldn’t be this way. Being with a guy can’t get any simpler than this. No strings, no expectations, no future. Nothing to make it confusing or emotional for either of us. So why am I suddenly frantic?

Jeez, Louise, we spent a night together having killer sex. It shouldn’t be this awkward.

“How much time?” he repeats.

I sigh in frustration. “I don’t know. Forty minutes, maybe.”

He pulls back. “We can save time by showering together.”

Without waiting for an answer, Jacob goes into the bathroom and I hear the water turn on. Flustered, I stare at the open door. So now he’s Mr. Confident, is he? Thinks I’m a slam dunk. And damn, why did I let him get into the bathroom before I peed? Krystal, you’re a hot mess this morning, but that shower together comment definitely needs a follow-up.

I go into the bathroom and sit on the vanity, studying him through the steamed glass as he washes himself. “I don’t like being told what to do, so don’t do it again.”

He opens the doors and peeks out at me, frowning. “What? What are you talking about?”

He looks genuinely confused and that genuinely irritates me. “Don’t think that you can order me around because we’ve slept together. That’s what I’m talking about.”

Jacob’s eyes flash in surprise. “I didn’t. And I don’t think that way.”

I arch a brow. “Could have fooled me. You act that way. You kiss and touch me whenever you want to. Then you order me to shower with you. The girls you’re with might be used to being told what to do, but I’m not.”

His brows lower. “Girls I’m with? Is that what this is about?” His lips tightly curl inward as if he’s beating back a smile. “I’ll make every effort not to treat you like my other girls.”

My cheeks flush from that one. “Don’t make fun of me. I have a right to tell you when you do something I don’t like. And I have a right to ask questions.”

His chin juts out as he nods as though he’s mulling over that one. “Questions? There was a question in that?”

The way he says that makes me sound ridiculous. “It’s not unreasonable to expect basic knowledge about a guy you go to bed with.”

He nods again. “So what do you want to know?”

“Do you have a girlfriend? And if you don’t, how many girls have you dated? It must be a lot. You’re better at this than I am.”

Oh damn. That sounded so different in my head, and I shouldn’t have said that last sentence because now he’s grinning.

“You want answers? Get into the shower, Krystal.”

The shower door closes.

He starts washing himself again.

My gaze narrows as I cross my arms.

Not doing it, Jacob.

Not playing.

Were you not listening to me?

I push off from the vanity. Why do guys always think they’re in control if you sleep with them? I tell myself not to, toss off my clothes, and climb into the shower anyway.

Leaning back against the steamy tile, I stare and wait. He takes entirely too long to rinse the shampoo from his hair. Stalling or angry? I’m not sure which. Should be neither. I followed him into the shower, didn’t I?

When he comes out from beneath the stream, my eyes lock with his. “Answer my question. Do you have a girlfriend?”

He leans back on his side, copying my posture. He sighs and rakes the hair from his face. “I broke up with my girlfriend a year ago, before I moved here. I haven’t really dated since.”

Not exactly a complete answer. “Are you saying you don’t date? That you’re one of those guys that hooks up and nothing else?”

He grimaces. “God, I hate that word. Hookup. I’d like to punch the guy who invented it. It’s not like that. I work a lot and try to stay busy.” He looks grossly uncomfortable now, more like the Jacob I’m comfortable with, and it makes my mood soften. “I don’t hook up and I don’t exactly date. I’m sort of something in between.”

“In between? I don’t understand.”

His head tilts up and he stares at the ceiling. “I date a little. Not often. They sometimes end in bed and in the morning we usually part as text friends. You tell me what that is because I don’t know what to call it.”

I pretend to give it serious thought. “Normal, I think.”

He shakes his head. “I hope not.”

My smile surfaces before I can stop it.

“Anything else you want to know?” He groans, then turns away and starts washing again.

He’s embarrassed.

Time to stop this.

Those were the big questions.

Besides, the world’s back on it axis again. I feel more in control and I’m pretty sure he’s feeling less high-handed.

After washing my hair and lathering my body, I’m starting to wonder what having me in the shower was about. He hasn’t touched me or even moved from his half. Hell, he’s hardly even glanced in my direction.

I vigorously pull my fingers through my curls to get the cream rinse out. Guys become annoying the second you let it show that you’re even a tiny bit interested in them.

Why are all guys jerk-guy underneath?

When I come out from beneath the water he’s watching me. “My turn to ask questions. What was all that junk between you and Daryl about? Is that something you expect a guy to do with you?”

My face colors in a burn.

Something you expect—
jeez, Louise,
he didn’t even ask it directly and, fudge, I’m cringing from head to toe, when I’m not the least bit embarrassed about the things I did with Daryl.

“I’m not answering that.”

His brows shoot up. “What? You’re the only one with a right to have basic knowledge?”

That makes me sound arbitrary so I ignore it.

“How many boyfriends have you had?” he asks, going in another direction.

“I don’t know if you could call any of the guys I dated before Daryl my boyfriend. Dance takes up a lot of time. It doesn’t leave much for anything else. Not if you want to be good and get somewhere with it. But a defined boyfriend, only one: Daryl.”

“And have you done
that
with any other guy?”

I lift my chin. “That? It’s called kink. Not something people don’t do. Try Googling once in a while. And no, I never did it with anyone but Daryl because I’ve never slept with anyone but Daryl. That is until you.”

His features contort. “I can’t do that junk. Not ever.”

Oh, so that’s what these humiliatingly probing questions are about. “I don’t recall asking you to.”

He studies me, confused, shaking his head. “Why did you do the tie-me-whip-me thing with Daryl? I don’t understand that. You’re a smart girl and that’s not a smart thing to do. Not with any guy.”

My face scrunches up until my eyes are shut.

It keeps getting worse no matter how he phrases it.

Worse—and weirdly sweet.

Protective Jacob.

I don’t know why protective Jacob appeared in the shower at this moment, but as awkward as it is, I can’t escape the fact that it’s—no other word—sweet.

I exhale slowly then open my eyes. “It’s something I read about and wanted to try. I liked it. It kept sex from being overly emotional and mostly physical. I can’t let anything interfere with my focus, especially not some high school romance that would have never gone anywhere other than ending, since that’s what happens when school’s over. I’ve got to stay one hundred percent dedicated to dancing. I’ve only got three, maybe four years to earn a principal rank with a company. Then I’ll be too old and won’t have a shot of ever being a prima ballerina.