Take that, jerk-face.
With mad determination, I glanced around, looking for some sort of assistance – a stray battering ram and maybe a small army to wield it.
Of course, I found neither of these things. No surprise there.
But I did have my own legs and a scary amount of determination – so I strode forward and gave the door a good hard kick, swat-team style.
At the impact, I stifled a yelp. Son-of-a-bitch.
The door held firm, and the bottom of my foot hurt like heck.
But hey, I reminded myself, Brody hadn't succeeded on his first try either. I mean, this wasn't like in the movies, that's for sure.
By now, I was breathing fast and hard – whether from raw nerves or the adrenaline pumping through my veins.
With a sound of defiance, I hauled back and kicked the door again, and again, until it finally flew inward. It hit the neighboring wall and bounced back, nearly whacking me in the face. I gave the door a final, irritated push – not hard enough to bounce it back, but firm enough to keep it out of my way.
And then, feeling like a total badass, I strode right in.
The bathroom was steam-free, and surprisingly cold. Inside the shower, the water was still running. My chest rose and fell as I eyed the silhouette inside.
Oh, yeah. It was definitely Brody.
I'd know his fine form anywhere. And even if I couldn't tell by looking, his voice was all too familiar – and annoyingly calm – as he said, "Yeah?"
I shook my head. Yeah?
Well, that was disappointing.
I made a sound of annoyance. "Yeah, what?"
"What do you want?"
Well, for starters some sort of reaction would be nice. It's not like I'd expected him to scream in terror or anything. This was Brody Blastoviak, after all.
Still, I'd expected something. Anger. Surprise. Maybe even embarrassment.
But I got nothing, and his calm demeanor was a real kick in the pants.
Even his question was irritating. What did I want?
As I eyed his naked silhouette, I could think of multiple answers, but none that I'd ever act on.
The bathroom's towel rack was long gone, which meant that Brody's pelvis – unlike mine a couple of weeks ago – wasn't obscured from view.
Even through the frosted glass, I saw way more than I'd ever anticipated. His body wasn't sudsy, but it was definitely wet.
My gaze drifted to his pelvis, and my breath caught. The cold temperature hadn't impacted him at all, if you know what I mean.
At the sight of his glorious form, I felt heat rise to my face and then, even worse, drift downward to settle somewhere in the middle – and I didn't mean my stomach.
As far as his question, I knew exactly what I wanted, and it was the dumbest thing in the world.
I wanted him.
But I wasn't dumb. Or at least, I tried not to be.
Shaking off the distraction, I boldly announced, "I came for revenge, that's what."
At this, he laughed. It wasn't a big laugh, but it was annoying.
Damn it. I was supposed to be throwing him off his game, not the other way around.
I demanded, "And how'd you know it was me?"
"Aside from seeing you through the glass?"
Not too long ago, I'd been in Brody's position – naked in the shower after someone had barged in. During that whole embarrassing fiasco, I hadn't recognized him at all. Then again, my shower had been a lot steamier, and Brody hadn't been on my radar in the least.
And that wasn't the only difference between the two scenarios. From what I could gather, Brody hadn't panicked one single bit, even as I'd been kicking like a madwoman at the door.
This could only mean one thing. "Wait a minute. You knew it was me before I busted in."
Sounding annoyingly amused, he asked, "What makes you say that?"
"Because you stayed in the shower."
"No kidding," he said. "I wasn't done."
Well, goodie for him.
"So, tell me," I persisted. "How'd you know it was me?"
"Easy," he said. "You're the only one crazy enough to do that."
I felt my jaw clench. So I was crazy? Not him?
Talk about nerve.
"Hey!" I said. "You did it to me first."
"So?"
"So maybe you deserved a taste of your own medicine."
"Yeah? How's that workin' out?"
For me? Actually, the whole thing was horribly unsatisfying. I hadn't gotten the reaction I'd wanted, and I was hugely – pun intended – distracted by his naked silhouette.
If I didn't know any better, I'd say that his body was happy to see me – and not just a little.
Again, pun intended.
Even worse, his body wasn't the only happy thing in the room. Logically and emotionally, I felt like throttling him. But my own body? Well, let's say it had other ideas.
The traitorous hussy.
Obviously, both of our bodies were idiots – unless he always walked around with a massive erection. And I do mean massive.
And yet, here he was, carrying on a normal conversation like nothing was out of the ordinary.
As for myself, I felt beyond foolish. I might've skulked away then and there if only I hadn't recalled just in time what had driven me here in the first place. It was that conversation back at the crew house. He'd been completely awful.
If that jerk thought I was letting him off the hook, he was even crazier than I was.
I told him, "You know you were a jerk, right?"
He was silent for a long moment before saying, "No."
I bristled. "Oh yeah? Well—"
"I wasn't a jerk. I was an asshole." He paused. "And I'm sorry."
"Oh." And now I didn't know what to say. "Seriously?"
"Hell yeah."
"Oh." Yes, I was repeating myself, but none of this was going remotely how I'd planned. The whole thing was like opposite day.
Judging from the steam – or lack thereof – his shower wasn't hot. It was cold.
He wasn't embarrassed. But I was.
And of course, he didn't seem the
