He was still sitting there, relaxing over the couch as he scrolled through his phone. He stayed there as if he didn't just stroll out half-naked and ruin my entire nervous system.
His stupid, damp hair kept dripping onto his shoulders, and one tiny drop rolled down his neck and my stupid eyes followed it.
At that moment, I felt like I was in some slow-motion shampoo commercial watching that droplet disappearing into....I prefer to not say it.
I groaned palming my face.
This was torture.
"What is?" His voice was lazy, and somewhat amused? I froze like a deer caught in headlights.
D*mn it, did I just say it out loud?
I peeked between my fingers. Mistake number 101.
He was not even pretending to dry off anymore. The towel had shifted just a little lower, and holy mother of gravity, it was hanging on for dear life.
I stood up from my feet like the bed was on fire. "You have to put on clothes. Now. Please, I beg you."
