Screw him for looking like that at six in the damn morning.
Ugh, I can’t believe this is happening.
Oh my God.
He’s lifting the toilet seat.
My nose scrunches up as I hear the very obvious, very unfortunate sound of Owen peeing less than three feet away from me.
He’s taking a piss… right in front of me. I squeeze my eyes shut, not interested in watching. Not my thing. Not now. Not ever.
How did I go from having one of the most sexy mornings of my entire life to the least?
Please finish. Please finish. Please finish.
Relief floods my veins when I finally hear the toilet flush.
Thank you, God.
Crisis averted. Owen will wash his hands, be on his merry way, and I’ll pretend this never happened.
Wait.
Why is he still standing there?
Why is he…
Oh no.
Oh no no no—
Through the blurred glass, I watch in slow motion as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband and slides his boxers down his legs.
My eyes go wide as all the color drains from my skin.
WHAT. THE. FUCK.
What is he doing? There is no way he’s about to—
Before I can move, before I can breathe, before I can even think, the shower door swings open and cool air rushes in.
I almost pass out as Owen steps straight inside.
On pure instinct, I slap one arm across my chest and the other down low, backing into the corner like a skittish animal caught in a spotlight.
“OWEN! What the hell!” I shout.
His whole body jerks backward in shock as he whacks the back of his skull against the glass.
“Ouch, fuck!” he hisses, grabbing the back of his head.
Then, he looks up and sees me.
His face goes completely blank as his brain forgets how to function. He has a full system shutdown as his eyes go wide and his mouth parts.
For a few seconds, he just stares, his body rooted in place. My blood heats with adrenaline as his traitorous eyes betray him and sweep down my body before snapping back up to my face.
My pulse flutters against my neck as I see his gaze darken, a mixture of shock and unmistakable lust.
