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“I’m sorry,” I gasp, trying to calm my racing heart. “I’m justreallyscared of snakes.”

Bradley laughs, and with a steady hand, he reaches out and grabs the snake behind the head, careful not to startle it. And I watch in awe. The sight is doing all sorts of things to me, but beingarousedwas the last thing I ever expected to be. Why is Bradley manhandling this snake so incredibly hot?Goodness me.

“What are you going to do with it?” I ask, my voice shaky.

“I’ll release it outside,” he replies, already opening the door, before disappearing.

With the snake safely removed, I cautiously step out of the shower, looking around at... well, nothing, now. Hey, you can never be toosure. I quickly grab my things and walk back out into my living room. After a few moments, Bradley comes back in, closing my front door.

“All taken care of,” he announces.

And what a relief that is.

“T-thank you so much,” I say, rushing up to him to give him a tight hug. He clears his throat, and for a moment, I forget that I’m still in my towel and very, verywet.

“Oh, my god. Sorry,” I say, gripping my towel like my life depends on it.

As his gaze intensifies, I feel a flutter of something unfamiliar in my chest. I try to brush it off, chalking it up to the adrenaline of the situation, but his proximity and the way his eyes linger on me make it hard to ignore.

“You’re welcome,” he says, his voice low and husky. “Just glad I could help.”

It is now that I notice he’s in gym gear—black shorts, a tank top, and Nike sneakers. A film of sweat marks his skin, and his tank top clings to him, outlining every ridge of his pecs and abdomen, where I know that six-pack is hiding. The mood around us changes. The air that was once cool, now warm, warming up my skin, my cheeks.

As he steps closer, the air between us seems to crackle with an electric intensity. I can feel my heart racing in my chest, my breaths coming in short, shallow gasps. His eyes are dark and intense, boring into mine with a hunger that sends a shiver down my spine.

“I’m... I’m glad you called me,” he admits.

He is?

“I couldn’t think of anyone else,” I say softly. His eyes soften for a moment, as if he can understand my thoughts. Bradley takes another step closer, and I decide to bite the bullet.

“You never called? I just... after last weekend, after we…” My voice trails off, and I swallow, watching his expression. “I just thought you’d text me,” I say, my voice almost a whisper.

“I wanted to. Fuck, believe me, I did,” he confesses, his gaze unwavering.

I frown softly. “Well, why didn’t you?”

“I-I don’t know. I needed time to process it all,” he says, his voice gravelly.

“But... you kissed me. What did you need to process?”

The tension between us is palpable, the air thick with desire. His gaze is intense, his proximity even more intoxicating. I can feel my heart racing, my breaths coming in short, shallow gasps.

“I don’t even know,” he says, shaking his head. He stops talking, and I wait, realising he’s stuck in thought. His brows are furrowed, eyes distant. I study him, feeling a mix of frustration and curiosity.

Why is he always so stuck in his head?

“What are you thinking right now?” I ask, probably a little too abruptly.

He looks stumped. “Right now?”

“Yes, Brad. Right now.” I lean in slightly, my eyes searching his face. I can see the conflict in his eyes, and it intrigues me. What’s going on in that head of his? Why does he always seem sodistant, yet so present?

“I’m thinking that you should get changed,” he says, glancing at the towel clutched tightly between my hands.

Oh crap. The towel.Why haven’t I changed yet?This is so awkward. One wrong move and it’ll slip. Would I let that happen?Should I?

“Why?” I question, my voice shaky.