Page 18 of I Wish I Would've Warned You

Eventually, I slip out of the pool and wrap myself in a towel.

“I’m going to shower and head to bed,” I say. “It was nice meeting you all.”

“Iswearher Hermès bag was fake,” Sarah says, flipping her hair. “The clasp was completely off.”

“But Clive bought her that Prada one last year, remember?” Ashley says. “So maybe this one’s real, too.”

“I still don’t trust it.”

I duck inside and leave their voices fading behind me.

My mom and Aidan are laughing down the hall as I climb the stairs. Something about this house still doesn’t feel real—heated floors, towel warmers, entire rooms just for showering.

I switch on the warmer and slip into the private shower, sighing the moment hot water hits my skin.

It’s decadent.

The pressure is perfect. The lights can change color. The scent of the eucalyptus steam floods my senses like I’ve stepped into a spa. I tilt my face into the stream and close my eyes, letting the warmth sink into my shoulders, down my spine.

When I’ve soaked up enough of the heat, I reach for the warmer?—

But my towel’s gone.

Frowning, I open the linen closet. Empty.

I crack open the door and peek toward my room, but just as I step forward, the bathroom door opens.

Cole steps in.

He’s shirtless, damp, a towel slung low around his hips—mytowel.

His gaze lands on me, and everything in the room stills.

My breath catches. He doesn’t look away.

He doesn’t even blink.

His eyes rake down my body—neck, breasts, stomach, thighs—and the burn of his attention makes my skin pulse.

“Why would you take that towel when you knew someone was in here?” I manage, holding the door with one hand and my pride with the other. “Didn’t you hear the shower?”

“No.” His voice is unhurried. “It’s soundproof. I didn’t know this suite was occupied.”

“Give me the towel.”

“Okay.” He smirks.

He drops it.

My lips part.

He steps closer, completely bare. All lean muscle and sculpted heat, not the least bit shy. My eyes betray me—dragging down his chest, his abdomen, his hips… lower.

God.

I can't breathe.

He picks up the towel again and closes the space between us.

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