And there’s no pretending this is casual anymore.
My heart is pounding.
My skin feels too tight.
Too aware.
And then—a click.
Soft. But it might as well be thunder.
I stare at the door like I’m in a dream.
It opens. And there he is.
David.
Keycard in hand.
Already stepping inside like he belongs here.
Like he belongs with me.
The door shuts behind him with a quiet, expensive click.
“You have a key?” I manage.
He doesn’t answer. Doesn’t even look at the door.
His eyes are on me.
Dragging.
Slow.
Intentional.
Taking in everything.
The towel.
My bare shoulders.
My damp hair.
The way I’m standing there like I’ve lost all common sense.
His jaw tightens.
A low sound leaves him.
“Fuck, Sunshine,” he murmurs. “You look good enough to eat.”
Heat floods my entire body. Every inch.
And for one suspended moment I think I could still step back. Still stop this. Still choose safe.
Instead, I let the towel go.