Page 57 of The Score

"Evie told me you needed help."

"Did she also tell you to make yourself comfortable and walk right into the changing room where I'd be trying on lingerie?"

I open my mouth but nothing comes out. I've never seen Pen in her underwear, but I didn't even consider that might happen by walking in. The shop owners were so casual about it, and every store I've ever been in had several changing rooms, not just a single large one. I didn't think twice about it. Knowing we're engaged, they probably assumed we're comfortable with each other this way— but we're not. Sure, I have seen Pen in a bikini, I've seen the same expanse of skin, the same marks, the same cute dimples, and shouldn't that be the same?

The way my heart hammers against my breastbone, and the way my blood changes direction, are evidence it's not.

Pen's eyes widen. "Did Evie tell you to cop a feel, too, Leon?"

Her voice comes out controlled, now. I recognize the tone. It's her 'I'm trying hard not to lose it' tone.

I frown. Am I copping a feel? In my head, what I was really doingwas…

But yeah. I am. The hand on her ribcage is actually close to her breast, and my thumb arches around and underneath the cup, touching lace. The other is right on the curve of her hip where her flesh turns to her ass, and my fingers are splayed wide, like I'm trying to cover as much territory as possible.

I have never touched Pen so intimately.

"I am not— I was—" I try.

Whatever part of my brain is in control of me right now is definitely playing tricks. I'm aiming to move my hands away to safer geography… but it doesn't take a lot of imagination to feel like it's a caress.

"Leon."

This time, my name on her lips succeeds at bringing me back to reality. I pull my hands away like I've been caught in a criminal act and I'd like to claim innocence.

"Sorry," I say. "I was only trying to break your fall."

Pen puts her hands on my chest and finds her balance again. Her weight is on me as she kicks off her heels, and if bad luck is still the name of the game, she will feel just how hard my heart beats right under her palm.

Her hands leave me. "Give me the robe, will you?"

She stands barefoot now, and points to a chair behind me. I grab the white silk piece of clothing she wants, hand it to her, and turn around.

"Isn't it too late for that?" she asks, a hint of dark humor in her voice.

"Look, I'm trying, okay? I didn't think this through."

But looking away will hide my hard-on until I have it under control.

"We were both shocked by it, I think," she says.

"I'm sorry. You know I usually try to be more careful. I should have thought things through and announced myself just in case—"

"Just— give me a sec. And don't turn around. I changed my mind. I'm getting back into my own clothes now."

Cool, cool. Meaning she's getting naked behind me.

I cross my arms and close my eyes for good measure.

Fuck. All that does is fill my head with images that aren't helping. Now I don't only have to contend with the memory lighting up my head, of Pen in blue lingerie standing on a raised pedestal, like she's modeling her new set for me, her future husband— dammit, her fiancé. Herbest friend. I'm her best friend, who should be doing his best to erase the vision before it gets permanently etched in my mind. Especially since it's too late for my body. The places where we touched, the caress of skin to skin, the curves I got to cradle… they are burned on my hands already.

GET IT TOGETHER, LEON KARLSEN.

I dig my nails into the palms of my hands. "Sorry. I can wait outside."

Has my therapist taught me any distraction techniques? I don't think she has, because I'm supposed to be so good at compartmentalizing. Ha. She's never been so wrong. If I was, I would be able to make my dick forget what we saw, and make my brain delete the files.

"There's no point now." She doesn't sound too annoyed anymore, but factual.