It had been four years since she had suddenly passed away, and I thought I was done grieving. Aunt Vicky had been my saving grace, the woman who rescued me from the children's home after my parents died, the person who had become my rock. And she had always worked so hard to see not just that I had what I needed, but that I had fun, and was happy. She was the one to first spark my interest in art, and she'd always encouraged my blogging, telling me she thought that people would love to know what I was thinking.
Even though it was just the two of us growing up, and we never had much money, things had never felt bleak. Not like they had since she'd been gone. I was trying to pursue my dreams of blogging full-time and one day traveling the world to see my favorite art pieces, but it was difficult. I found myself struggling to make it through day-to-day life, let alone hold onto my ability to dream about the future.
Hot tears welled up in my eyes, but it seemed okay to let them out now. They mingled with my sweat as they poured down my face, and I let them flow until I was sobbing. I leaned my head back and cried until it seemed like there were no more tears. I felt exhausted, but also calm.
I took a deep breath and wiped my tears with a corner of the towel. I remembered one of Vicky's sayings, that everything seemed clearer after a good cry. And it was true-now that I'd released my feelings things didn't seem so heavy. I laid my head back and just let myself sit in the heat, once again trying to focus on how I'd describe the experience to my readers.
I was so focused I almost didn't notice the sound of the door opening, but the sudden gust of colder air jolted me back to my senses. I sat up straight and snapped my head toward the door where-dear God-the man from breakfast this morning was standing, with only a white towel wrapped around his slim waist.
I was so caught off guard, all I could do was stare at him. He was even more gorgeous up close, his skin seemed radiant in the shimmering heat of the sauna, his muscles firm underneath. My gaze drifted up his torso, which widened to accommodate broad shoulders. Only when I got to his face did two pieces of very important information hit me at once: one, he was looking back at me, and two, I technically wasn't supposed to be here.
He frowned.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought I booked this one."
You probably did,I thought to myself. But out loud I just said, "Oh, um, I don't know," and blinked at him in what I hoped was an innocent way.
For a beat his frown deepened, and I started to worry. There was no way he could tell I wasn't supposed to be here just by looking at me, right?
But then he seemed to decide it was okay. His face relaxed, and he gave me a charming smile.
"I mean, I don't mind the company if you don't."
Did I mind? I honestly didn't know. At least I wasn't crying anymore. I hadn't booked the sauna; staying and sharing it with him could possibly lead to him somehow discovering that. On the other hand, it felt like the universe had just dropped him in front of me... wearing nothing but a towel and getting sweatier with every passing moment. Maybe I was feeling bold because of my recent emotional catharsis, or maybe Dani's spirit jumped through the walls and possessed me. But, for whatever reason, a voice in my head whispered,"Just accept it."
So, I did. I gave him my best smile and said, "No, I don't mind at all."
He broke into a megawatt grin. He shut the door and moved to sit on the bench opposite me, somehow managing to keep eye contact the whole time. A thrill ran down me, all the way to my toes. The voice in my head was now telling me that there was no way lightning would strike twice, so I should make the most of being this close to him before I left and likely never saw him again.
In fact, the voice was suggesting that I go pour some more water on the rocks at the center of the room, because it would give me a chance to get an even better look at him. And him at me-which, if the way he was looking at me now was any indication, was something he was definitely interested in. I uncrossed my legs and stood up, tucking a stray hair back behind my ear in what I hoped was an alluring way as I sauntered across the sauna.
There was only one problem.
My towel did not come with me.