Tangled in Tinsel (The More the Merrier, #1)

by Trilina Pucci

Basic skills, guys—cooking, having towels in the bathroom, sheesh. What does Alec do, air dry? I smirk because the thought isn’t awful. But I’m not doing the same, so I dry myself with a small amount of dry section before wrapping it around me and opening the door. The moment I do, I freeze. Because sitting on my bed is Cole. The Cole who wasn’t supposed to be here anymore. The Cole who left me all hot and bothered. The fucking Cole I just moaned to call me a good girl. He’s staring at me, towel over one knee, forearm rested on the other. Cole closes and flexes his fist, and I swear my eyes fixate on the veins bulging from his arm. “What are you still doing here?” I say, hushed, swallowing after. Please say you didn’t hear. I’ll die. Suddenly I’m feeling very, very sober. Fear of dying from embarrassment has a way of doing that. He glances at the towel on his knee. “You needed a new one.”