There was a pause. Then the door opened.
And my brain immediately forgot how to function because Theo stood right there, wearing nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants.
His chest was bare and his broad shoulders were all lean muscle, the faint outline of his abs on full display, which made my brain momentarily short-circuit.
Oh.
Oh wow.
“Did you need something?” he asked.
Right.
Words.
I should probably use those.
“Uh… yes,” I said, feeling heat rush straight to my face. “I was trying to unzip this dress, but I think the zipper got caught on something because I can’t get it loose.”
He blinked.
“So, I was wondering if you could maybe… check it?” I gestured vaguely toward my back. “Just to see if you can get it unstuck.”
His expression shifted slightly, like he was trying very hard not to think about what I’d just asked.
Then, because my mouth apparently had no filter tonight, I added quickly, “I promise I’m not trying to seduce you or anything.”
Theo huffed out a quiet laugh. “Well, that’s reassuring.”
Mortified, I turned around before I could make things worse. “Just tell me if you see what it’s caught on.”
I felt him step closer behind me.
The air shifted instantly, and I could feel the warmth of his body even before he touched me.
Then his fingers brushed the back of my dress and every nerve ending in my body lit up.
“Looks like the zipper just caught on the lining,” he said quietly.
His fingers worked carefully at the fabric until the zipper slid down an inch.
Then another.
Unzipping all the way down until the dress loosened around my shoulders.
“Thank you,” I said, peeking over my shoulder at him, the fabric shifting with the movement enough to expose more of my back to the cool air.
“You’re welcome,” he said, his voice huskier than usual.
But instead of stepping away like I expected now that the problem was solved, his hand lingered. His fingertips traced lightly along my spine before drifting to the side, following a thin line I’d almost forgotten was there.
“What’s this from?” he asked, his voice sounding thicker than it had a moment ago.
I blinked, my brain taking a second to catch up. “Oh,” I said, my breath hitching in my chest. “That?”
“Yeah.” His finger followed the faint scar again.
“Dog bite,” I said, swallowing. “When I was thirteen.”