Quickly, I retreat to the kitchen, slamming the wine bottle on the counter and set down the glass, hurrying back to my bedroom, closing myself inside.
Lock it for good measure.
Go straight to my bathroom and stare at myself in the mirror; cheeks flushed, eyes dilated. I look as wild as I feel right now.
“What even was that?” I hiss, gripping the sink.
My reflection? Zero help.“Did you seriously walk into his room without knocking?”
“Yes!” I whisper-yell at myself, like that makes it better. “YES, I DID.”
Why would I have done that?!Unannounced! WITHOUT KNOCKING! With wine as if I was about to seduce him when clearly he was already busy seducing himself!
You want to know the worst part?
It’s not the nudity. Turner has an amazing body. His abs have their own zip code. His thighs look like they could crush a watermelon. And his?—
It wasn’t even the fact that his saggy balls were out for the world to see.
Nope—not the problem.
Not evencloseto the problem.
The worst part is that it was so fuckinghot.
My pussy clenches involuntarily. Betrayal. Absolute betrayal.
I should be mortified. I mean—I am.
But I’m also… panting?
Jeezuz, why am I panting?!
It’s the way his head tipped back—like he was offering his entire soul to the ceiling. The low, guttural sound that slipped from his mouth like it had no right being that sexy. The sheer, unapologetic confidence of him—one hand wrapped around himself, the other probably balancing on a thigh like some sort of erotic Greek statue.
“STOP,” I hiss out loud, slapping my own face with a pillow. “DO NOT.”
Do not mentally rewind.
Do not visualize the vein.
No part of my body is listening, andthis is going to haunt me.
Every time I look at him. Every time I walk past his room. Every time I hear theclickof Netflix autoplay and know he’s in there, relaxing like a perfectly normal person, while I’m out here fighting the world’s most inappropriate crush.
What the hell am I supposed to say tomorrow? SERIOUSLY. SOMEONE TELL ME.
“Oh. Hey.Sorry I barged in and caught you mid-orgasm, here’s some orange juice?”
Kill me.
Kill me now.
It’s late but I assume Nova is awake—she’s a night owl, like me—and I shoot her an SOS, my second emergency since arriving in Texas.
Me: HELP. SOS
Nova: Is this an actual emergency, or did you walk in on your roomie with his shirt off, ha hah ahahahah LOL
