Caught in the Bedroom

Nadia

I was not just staring at a shirtless Torin.

I was openly gawking at a freshly showered, water-dripping Torin.

My brain screamed at me to close my eyes, pull the heavy sheet back over my head, and pretend the tequila had wiped out my consciousness. Self-preservation urged me to look anywhere else—the polished hardwood floor, the expansive floor-to-ceiling windows showing the city skyline,