I lift my hand to knock a third time, but it’s pointless because the door isn’t there anymore. It’s been wrenched open, and standing in front of me is Lawson…and he’s shirtless. No. Not just shirtless. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of low-slung gray sweatpants that leave little to the imagination, and holy hell is my mind running wild. I know logically it’s because of what he said at the photoshoot on Sunday to get me all riled up, but that doesn’t stop my body from responding to the sight before me.
