Barely Breathing (The Breathing #2)(75)

I jiggled my key free from the front door and slammed it behind me, barely noticing as I raced up that my mother had left the lights on at the top of the stairs. I flipped off my sneakers and flung them across my room, peeled off my socks and left them on the floor, then threw my sweaty game jersey in the hamper. I was struck with déjà vu―recognizing how similar this felt to the night Evan took me to the concert. All that was missing was Jonathan walking through the door unexpectedly.

I ran to the bathroom in my shorts and a sports bra, pushing open the door and shutting it behind me in one swift motion. And then I stopped in my tracks. Irony punching me in the face …

"Hey?" Jonathan stood in front of me gripping the waistband of his running pants, his dark brown eyes staring at me in shock.

"Uh, sorry," I gaped, instinctively crossing my arms over my chest as I stood immobilized in front of the door. Sweat ran down the side of his face, along the tendons of his thick neck and over the grooves of his broad shoulders and sculpted chest. His face was still flushed and his sweaty t-shirt was crumpled on the bathroom floor. I clamped my mouth shut―it had inadvertently flopped open. "I didn't know you were here."

I quickly turned around and gripped the handle of the door. I had started to open it when Evan called out, "Em? I'm here."

I clicked the door shut. "Shit," I said through clenched teeth, banging my forehead against the frame. "Uh, I'm running late," I hollered through the door. "I'll be down in a little bit."

"Okay," he responded.

I breathed with my head still pressed against the wood, trying to figure out what to do.

"Wow," Jonathan breathed behind me, "this is awkward."

I spun around and glared at him. "You think?"

"So... you have a date?" he asked casually like we weren't standing in front of each other half naked and sweaty. 

"Jonathan!" I scolded with wide eyes. "What am I supposed to do? How do I explain you coming out of the bathroom while I'm supposed to be taking a shower?!" I was on the verge of hyperventilating.

"It's okay," Jonathan soothed. But his comical expression lingered. "Just take a shower."

"What?!" I snapped, a little too loudly, then covered my mouth with my hand and listened, praying my voice hadn't carried downstairs. I heard the squeak of the front door and the rattling of the glass when it closed.

"Evan?" my mother acknowledged. "How are you? Where's Emily?"

My eyes couldn't stretch any wider without popping out of my head. Jonathan let out a small laugh, and my mouth dropped open in disbelief.

"She's taking a shower," he told her. "I guess she got held up after the game and she's running late."

"Emily!" my mother bellowed, the creaks of the stairs drawing closer. "Are you almost done?"

The handle jiggled, and the door started to push open. I thrust my back against it, slamming it in her face.

"Hey!" she cried out.

"Sorry," I grimaced, latching the door so she couldn't open it. "I'm about to get in the shower. Do you need to get in here?"

"I can wait," she told me. "Have you seen Jonathan? He was supposed to be here by now."

I stared across from me as he pressed his mouth into a smile to keep from laughing. I was so annoyed I wanted to throw something at him.

"Uh, no," I replied, "but I didn't really look for him either."

Jonathan couldn't hold back and let out a constrained, breathy laugh.

"Stop!" I mouthed, my brows pulled together in warning. He only smiled wider.

"Okay, well, Evan's waiting for you."

"I know. I'll hurry." I closed my eyes and shook my head, knowing I had no choice. When I heard her walk away, I whispered, "Fine. I'll take a shower, but you have to stand by the door."

"Don't worry," he smirked, "I won't peek."

"Funny," I snapped sarcastically. "We have to switch spots so I can get to the shower. Please don't make this any more awkward than it already is."

In order to exchange places in this closet of a bathroom, I had to shimmy past him, pressed between the bathtub and the sink.

I turned my head to the side, inching past him with my stomach sucked in to avoid touching him. I could feel his hot breath on my neck and inhaled the mix of sweat and a crisp cologne that reminded me of the ocean. His slick skin slid across mine, despite my efforts to be as small as possible.

Jonathan chuckled from above me. I tilted my head up, our faces inches apart. "We have to stop meeting like this," he teased. I pulled past him quickly, my heart racing.

I picked up his damp t-shirt and threw it at him, making him laugh even more. I shook my head in exasperation and stepped into the tub just as Jonathan turned toward the door. I secured the shower curtain and stripped off the rest of my clothes, my heart beating so fast I was still sweating.