Page 92 of One Spicy Summer

His chest rises and falls with each deep breath. His shirt is unbuttoned halfway, exposing a chest that is definitely worth staring at.

In one of the letters, he’d mentioned hitting the gym two, sometimes three times a day, getting ready to take on anything.

Preferably his father.

He stirs, and I can’t help but giggle when I notice the very obvious morning wood situation he’s got going on. Throwing the covers off, I grab for my crutches and start to get up. That’s when his deep, husky voice cuts through the quiet room.

“Going somewhere?”

I freeze. “Uh, yeah. Bathroom.” I grunt, struggling to steady the crutches under my arms.

“Here, let me.” Before I can protest, he moves in, scoops me up like I weigh nothing, and carries me toward the bathroom.

I squeal, clutching his neck. “Ry, I need to practice walking!” I argue.

He smiles that heart-melting smile. “I know. But when I’m here, you can use me instead.”

God help me, he’s beautiful. “Thank you,” I murmur, and immediately want to smack myself.

“What?” he teases. “No way you just said that out loud.”

“You sure?”

He nods, grinning like he’s just won a bet.

“Well, I guess...” I mutter.

When we reach the bathroom, he sets me down carefully, but doesn’t leave. “Uh, you can go now,” I say, awkwardly gesturing. “I’ll holler when I’m done.”

He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Nah. I’ll just wait right here.”

I glare. “I can’t pee with you in here.”

“You can’tpoopwith me in here. You can pee just fine.”

How the fuck does he remember that?

Oh right, because he wrote it in his letters. Every little thing about me, he remembered.

“Fine. Have it your way,” I grumble, pulling down my sleep shorts, revealing, unfortunately, that I’m not wearing panties.

His eyes darken.I sit down, legs trembling just enough that I nearly fall, but Ry’s there in a flash, catching me. “Careful,” he murmurs, helping me steady myself.

“Thanks,” I mumble, cheeks burning. “You know, if you weren’t staring so hard, maybe I wouldn’t have stumbled.”

He grins. “If you’d worn some underwear, maybe I wouldn’t have been staring.”

“Ha! Lies. You like watching me. Your letters said so.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Yep.” I finish up and stand, letting him help me pull my shorts back up.

“So, tell me, Princess... What else did you read in those letters?” The way he saysPrincess, low and rough, sends a shiver down my spine.

My body aches for him. Not just any man.Him.

Always him.

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