BELONGS TO ME

Chapter 6

He says nothing for a several seconds, so I nod. "I'm going back to bed." But before I can slip away, Shawn gently grips my wrist, so I look over my shoulder, into his eyes.

"I got a smoothie earlier. It sucked," he tells me randomly.

I suppress a grin. "That's too bad."

"It was Harry's fault."

I chuckle and his smile slips free.

"I'm craving a sundae." His eyes search mine. "You know you want one, too."

"It's the middle of the night."

"So." He shrugs.

"So..." I glance around the room, having no idea why I'm trying to escape. "I'll get the spoons?"

"That's my girl." He turns to the freezer, and I pretend he meant that in a far more literal way. He moves over to the cupboard for toppings, quickly setting them on the counter to his left.

With his eyes on the floor beneath his feet, he heads my way. Assuming he's coming for the spoons, I slip to the side, but Shawn shocks the shit out of me when his left arm darts out, caging me in.

My eyes slice up to meet his, and his palms find my hips. He lifts me, slowly lowering me onto the kitchen island.

The unexpected chill of the granite has me squealing, my body lurching forward, right against Shawn's chest.

He chuckles as my hands latch on to his shoulder, and I ease my ass down.

As I look up, my breath hitches. His mouth is no more than an inch from mine, and I'm not the only one who noticed.

All I would have to do, all either of us would have to do, is tilt our heads the smallest bit, and our lips would be touching, but I tried that once, and we both know how that turned out.

I won't try again, even if, since that night, something's shifted. I can see it in his eyes, in his words.

I can sense it in his touch.

Shawn is frozen, standing completely still as he stares at my mouth, and I can't help but wonder if he's replayed our kiss, as fleeting as it might have been, in his head as many times as I have.

I climbed straight out of bed, and only came down for a quick drink, maybe a snack... in nothing but a T-shirt cut around the collar and a thong—the countertop freezing my ass cheeks should have reminded me of this.

Shawn follows my line of sight to where my tangled shirt rides high over my hips, to the bright red V of my underwear.

He jumps, swings around and gets right back to his original task.

"You want caramel syrup?" 

"Chocolate." I curse myself for sounding all breathy, but son of biznatch!

Whatever, I'm not about a wasted opportunity, so I sit back and watch the way his muscles move as he works.

Did I mention he's shirtless? 'Cause it's glorious.

His hair is messy, his skin red from spending as much time as possible beneath the sun. 

"I can feel you checking me out." He doesn't bother turning to confirm.

"Yeah, well." I grip the countertop and lean forward a little. 

Shawn sets the ice cream scooper down, and spins with a smirk. He leans his ass against the granite, one leg crossed in front of the other, and holds his arms out wide. "Then by all means." He surprises me for the third time in three days, encouraging me to openly gawk.