Page 2 of Twins for the Mountain Daddies

Like, that thing is monstrous. Long, thick, veiny. How does he even walk around with it? More importantly…how does that evenfitinside a woman?

Heat scorches up my neck. I should turn around, bolt, dosomething.Instead, I just stand there, wide-eyed and frozen, my bladder screaming and my dignity circling the drain.

I'm transfixed by this impossibility, this...spectacle of manhood. He seems unaware of my presence, the sound of trickling water muffled by the pounding of blood in my ears. A flush of heat creeps up my neck as I stand there, a deer caught in the most awkward headlights possible.

Then, it registers—the distinct lack of stalls, urinals lining the wall, and him, standing there, doing his business as nature intended. I am not in the women’s room.

For a split second, we're frozen—me on the threshold, him midstream. Then reality crashes back, the absurdity too much for silence. I should move, speak, flee—but instead, a breathy, involuntary whisper escapes me.

"Jesus."

The moment shatters, his gaze locking with mine. Eyes like storms at sea, deep gray and turbulent, pin me in place. My breath catches. He's more than just large; he's a rugged masterpiece, as if the mountains themselves forged him—solid, wild, untamed.

"Ah, I—" Words tangle on my tongue, thick and clumsy. "Sorry, I didn't mean?—"

I lurch backward, the apology a garbled mess spilling from my lips. My heel clips the doorframe, sending me stumbling. Panic flares, a hot, embarrassing blaze. I grab for something, anything, to keep from sprawling on the grimy floor.

"Wrong door," I squeak, voice pitched too high, betraying my mortification.

My fingers fumble against cold tile, scraping for balance. My other hand flails wildly, catching on the edge of the sink, but my grip slips. The momentum sends me spinning in a humiliating half-circle before I crash—hard—into the paper towel dispenser. The metal groans under the impact, rattling like it might just fall off the damn wall.

I suck in a breath, eyes darting back tohim.

He’s still standing there, stillhanging out,watching me with a mix of amusement and confusion. He offers me a slow, almost lazy blink, like he’s trying to decide if I’m a genuine threat or just the dumbest woman alive.

Spoiler alert: it’s not the first option.

I jerk my gazeanywhere else.The ceiling. The floor. Thevery interestinggrout lines in the tile. My heart pounds soloudly it drowns out everything but theoh my God, oh my God, oh my Godscreaming through my head.

"Y-you should put that away," I stammer, waving vaguely in his direction, trying not to look.

A beat of silence. Then, in a deep, rumbling drawl that Ifeelmore than hear, he says, "Darlin’, this is the men’s room.”

I gape like a fish, cheeks flaming hotter than any paparazzi flashbulb. He is not wrong. And I can’t do anything right.

“You gonna stand there all day, or you gonna get the hell out?"

Mortification floods my veins. I whip toward the door, reach for the handle?—

And miss.

My fingers skim the air instead of solid metal. I lunge again, gripping nothing but panic. Why is the door so far away? Did itmove?

Behind me, I hear the telltale sound of a zipper sliding up, followed by the sink turning on. Oh,thank God.

“Not from around here, huh?” he drawls, voice thick with amusement.

“Nope!” My laugh comes out strangled. “Just…passing through. Accidentally. Into the men’s room. Where I should not be.”

Kill me. Just end it.

My hand finally finds the handle, and I yank the door open so hard it nearly smacks me in the face. I stumble out, almost taking down a display of beef jerky on my way.

I donotlook back.

I stumble into the hall, finding the ladies' room at last. I tumble through thecorrectdoor, heart pounding against my ribs. The slam of the door echoes, a punctuation mark to my complete lack of grace.

I stand there in front of the sink for a moment, willing my heart to slow down. The mirror’s reflection is a betrayal. I look like I lost a fight with a wind tunnel. The lopsided bun, the dark circles, the oversized hoodie swallowing me whole.

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