“Were you spying on me?” he asked, amusement written into his features, and I pressed my shoulders back. “No. But maybe you shouldn’t shower with the door open, idiot. I wasn’t planning on seeing the crack of dawn twice today,” I tossed at him. He barked a laugh, and it was so damn infectious that a smile hooked up the corner of my mouth. His dimple dented his right cheek, and I had the urge to reach out and run my thumb over it. An urge I quickly squashed.
