Not just because of him—but because I realized I wasn’t sure what I was more nervous about: the exposure, or how much I didn’t want to look away. My eyes darted back to my chest, but the damage was done. But I didn’t. wrestling,” I said, still dazed, pretending to focus on his advice while my brain was stuck replaying the last five minutes like a glitchy highlight reel. He started soaping himself up casually, not a trace of insecurity, running the lather across his chest and down his arms with a casualness that made my skin crawl with envy—and something else I wasn’t ready to acknowledge. Bodies are weird. His voice was calm, amused, like he’d seen this a thousand times before. Jake glanced down, then chuckled—that low, knowing sound that made me want to crawl into a hole and never come out.
