Page 8 of Before It Was Love

“EEK!”

I open my eyes and shampoo pours into them.

“Burn. Burn. Burn.”

I slam my eyes shut and bat at the faucet until the freezing cold water switches off. I grab my towel and wrap it around my body before using one corner to wipe my eyes. They continue to burn but at least I can see enough to climb out of the tub without ending up on my ass.

I pick my phone up from my dresser where I left it and dial the apartment building manager. “This is Sophia in apartment 7b. My water is freezing cold.”

“I’ll send someone over to deal with it.”

“Can they come soon? I was in the middle of a shower and my hair is full of shampoo.”

“I’ll send someone ASAP.”

“Thanks. I’ll leave the door unlocked.”

I throw my phone on my bed and return to the bathroom. I need to deal with my eyes before I do any permanent damage. I duck my head under the faucet and let the cold water soothe the burn.

“Hello!” someone yells.

I switch off the faucet so I can hear them better. “In here!”

I wet the hand towel with cold water and place it over my eyes.

“Thank goodness you could come so quickly,” I say when I hear someone stop outside the bathroom door.

“Soph?”

Soph? No one calls me Soph except… Oh shit.

“Flynn?” I lift the towel from my eyes to confirm my suspicion.

It is him. All six-foot-two inches of him. It’s been a few months since I saw him at Christmas dinner, but he hasn’t changed. Brown, wavy hair that looks as if he spent ages working on it. But I know he wouldn’t be caught dead using product in his hair.

Blue eyes, the color of the ocean he loves to surf in. And muscular arms I want wrapped around me. Preferably while he’s naked. What I wouldn’t do for a glimpse of his strong muscles without any clothes hampering my view.

He growls. “Why the hell did you leave your door unlocked when you’re naked?”

“I was waiting for the handyman to show up. Oh shit. You’re the handyman.”

“I own this building.”

Of course, he does. It’s not enough he’s won the sexiest man on the island five years in a row. He also has to be a successful businessman while my career went up in flames. So much for returning home as a success and showing Flynn Ryland what he’s missing.

“Now, answer my question. Why are you naked?”

“I’m not naked. I’m wearing a towel.”

“A towel is not dressed. Anyone could have barged in here and taken advantage of you.”

And there we have it, folks. The reason why all my fantasies of Flynn will never come to fruition. The man considers me his little sister. Whereas my feelings for him do not resemble any feeling I have for my actual big brother Weston.

“No one’s going to attack me. We’re on Smuggler’s Hideaway. Hardly anyone locks their doors during the day.”

“Most people don’t prance around their house naked either.”

“Prancing? I’m not prancing. Besides, it’s your fault I’m in a towel.”