Page 295 of The Hopelessly Bromantic Duet

Then yet one more, and I can feel his smile against my skin. “This is what I wanted to do to you in the car, River, when you were all tense and wound up,” he says softly. He rubs his thumbs along my neck, massaging me, like he’s wiping away the last remnants of tension.

But they were long gone hours ago. Everything faded away when we talked it out. All the tension from the car ride dissipated as we cleared the air.

I feel zero tension between us.

Only this newfound closeness.

This nascent intimacy that feels more than physical, that seems to skate into the emotional terrain.

Where we do things likethis. Quietly touch. Softly kiss. Share our stories. And find something in each other that wasn’t there before.

Owen’s strong hands work my muscles as his lips drift over the back of my head. He brushes kisses into my hair, proving that right now he’s everything he said he’d be.

Good to someone.

That someone is me.

And in this cocoon of Mother Nature’s making, a kismet of snow and circumstance, I don’t want to bring any more tension between us.

Maybe tonight isn’t the time for discussions, for what this is, for who we could be to each other. Tomorrow I will find the words to tell him how he’s making me feel. That I don’t want him on that app. That maybe, just maybe, I want to discover if I was wrong about Harry and Rod. If we can prove the opposite together.

For now, I’m choosing to bask in the quiet of a cold November night under the stars, a blanket of snow covering the ground, the constellations winking above us as my best friend’s hands graze along my shoulders and my neck. It just feels so good to be touched by him.

I let out a contented sigh and I rest my back against his chest, my head against his shoulder. Soon, he stops rubbing and slides his hands down my arms, clasps his fingers through mine, and then wraps both our arms around my stomach.

I’m pretty sure this is the most romantic way any man has ever held me.

Or ever will.

And maybe this is why I have to try. To see if we can havethiswhen we’re not lost in the snow.

16

OWEN

Clearly there is an agenda for tonight.

Tonight is going to be the ultimate snowed-in fantasy.

TJ would love this. I should tell him what we’ve been up to. Maybe it’ll be fodder for one of his books.

But I dismiss that notion as quickly as it lands in my head. His novels end one way only.

I can’t get caught up in how River and I might play out like a fantasy when I’m still trying to figure out what River wants in reality.

If he wants the same things I do. If he’ll take the same risks.

Best to play it safe for a little longer, conduct some more recon before I launch my bigyou’re the first person I think of when I wake up and the last person on my mind before I fall asleepconfessional.

Once we step out of the hot tub, I put my glasses back on. I wrap a towel around my waist, grab his, then wink at him and hoof it to the door.

River stares sharp knives at me. “You wouldn’t,” he hisses.

“Looks like I just did,” I say, with an easy shrug, waggling the towel, taunting him.

“You’re the worst. You’re so mean,” he says, stepping out of the hot tub in his full naked glory.

“Don’t mind me. I’m just ogling you,” I tell him, twirling my finger in his direction.