flora
Flora blinked as Liam stumbled over his words, offering compliments that suddenly felt like they came wrapped in caution tape. Romance, not sex on the beach. Sure. Right.
A touch egotistically perhaps, she'd asked if it was someone else because that was easier than considering the truth, which was apparently just nahhh, no thanks.
Her cheeks flushed deeper, hot with something worse than arousal now—mortification and embarrassment. Obviously, it had been stupid to think that sparring would turn into some sand-slick fantasy out of Mateo’s library stash. That her sweat and breathlessness and the way her body moved could temporarily alleviate all the things she was feeling; that tension might give way to something softer.
Stupid.
Flora didn’t answer him right away. Just stood, shook out her legs, brushed sand from her thighs with quick, sharp swipes. One hand tugged her shirt straight as the other combed her braid back over her shoulder. "Yeah. No, my bad," she said breezily, a little too fast. Her voice was still breathless, but now it was trying hard to be easy; flippant, casual, like nothing had happened. "Got a little carried away. Training’s supposed to be training. You were just helping. I get it."
Stepping to the side, she reached for the discarded boxing gloves. Even if the bag did hit back, at least it didn't leave her feeling like shit.
A touch egotistically perhaps, she'd asked if it was someone else because that was easier than considering the truth, which was apparently just nahhh, no thanks.
Her cheeks flushed deeper, hot with something worse than arousal now—mortification and embarrassment. Obviously, it had been stupid to think that sparring would turn into some sand-slick fantasy out of Mateo’s library stash. That her sweat and breathlessness and the way her body moved could temporarily alleviate all the things she was feeling; that tension might give way to something softer.
Stupid.
Flora didn’t answer him right away. Just stood, shook out her legs, brushed sand from her thighs with quick, sharp swipes. One hand tugged her shirt straight as the other combed her braid back over her shoulder. "Yeah. No, my bad," she said breezily, a little too fast. Her voice was still breathless, but now it was trying hard to be easy; flippant, casual, like nothing had happened. "Got a little carried away. Training’s supposed to be training. You were just helping. I get it."
Stepping to the side, she reached for the discarded boxing gloves. Even if the bag did hit back, at least it didn't leave her feeling like shit.
Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness
'Cause it's all over now, all out to sea
'Cause it's all over now, all out to sea
