Read Online Out of This World by Jill Shalvis - Free Book Online Page B

but I figure I’m more likely to be the next man on the moon, so I don’t put a lot of stock in hope.
    Besides, one thing I do have is her eternal friendship, which I’ve long ago talked myself into believing is enough.
    Now here we are, stomping through the middle of the Alaska wilds, and she’s been hit by lightning—God!—and I think, I think, I’ve just caught her checking out my ass…
    No doubt I dreamed that last part, but I didn’t dream her crawling up my body a few minutes ago as if she wanted to eat me alive. Nope, that had been real, because I pinched myself to make sure. I just tried to maintain after that. Not easy.
    â€œDo you know where you’re going?” she asked. Her Capri jeans were filthy, and her ruffled pink top was wet from the rain and newly sheer because of it, though I was desperately trying not to notice that as she squeegeed water out of her hair.
    Did I know where we were going?
    Not so much, actually. When I wasn’t under water with the dolphins, I could get lost finding my way out of a paper bag, and we both knew it. Plus, I didn’t feel so hot myself. I looked around me at the woods, which had all but swallowed us whole. The trail was gone.
    â€œI’ll figure it out.”
    â€œHow can you see?” she asked, and picked up my glasses, which had fallen to the ground. “I thought you were as blind as a bat without them.”
    Yeah, I was. Always have been. I took them and stuck them in my pocket, because oddly enough, for the first time since kindergarten, I didn’t have to squint to see. No blurry edges, no fuzzy lines. Nothing but perfect clarity. Must be the air. “Not so blind right now.”
    â€œHuh,” she said, looking at me, “that’s weird.”
    No, what was weird was the trail she’d come in on had vanished into thin air. It’d been right here before the sudden and shockingly vicious downpour, but hell if there was any sight of it now.
    â€œSo do you know where we’re going or not?” she asked.
    â€œSure.”
    â€œJust admit it. You don’t.”
    â€œI do.”
    She let out an unladylike snort. “What is it with men that they can’t admit when they’re lost?”
    â€œWhat good would it do to admit it? It’s not like I can stop and ask for directions.”
    â€œAs if you would if you could.”
    â€œI would!”
    â€œOkay, big guy. Whatever you say.” She tossed her hair back, going to work squeezing water out of her pink, ruffled top. Her sheer, pink, ruffled top. Let’s not forget that part. She fisted both hands in the thin material, molding it to her body, as she watched the water drip off her.
    And damn, though irritating as hell, the girl was beautiful. She had this curvy body that I knew drove her insane because it wasn’t model thin, and she had no idea how her curves could make a grown man beg for mercy. Coupled with her wildly wavy brown hair and melting chocolate eyes, she always made me want to beg for mercy, especially now, because her shirt was giving me some serious wet T-shirt fantasies.
    â€œMen don’t ask for directions,” she scoffed, hands on her hips. “You’re just not programmed to admit when you need help.”
    Beautiful and obnoxious. Did I mention obnoxious?
    â€œLet’s just start walking, okay?” I said.
    â€œHumph,” she said, and stomped past me.
    It was wrong, I knew, but when she got pissy, it turned me on. I snagged her arm, pulling her back around, doing my best not to notice that whole sheer-shirt thing she had going on and the fact that she was very cold. Very cold.
    Or turned on.
    The thought that she might be was a huge distraction. “What did that last ‘humph’ mean?”
    â€œNothing.”
    â€œOh, it’s something.”
    She looked away. “I just thought you were worried about me, that’s all.”
    â€œI