The Way He Looked at Me
“Nathan shouts advice over his shoulder about backhands. Cole glances at me, almost like he’s saying, See what I have to deal with? And I grin, helpless, caught in some ridiculous orbit of admiration and distraction.
The shorts. They are getting worse. The fabric clings, tracing muscles I didn’t know I could notice this much. His glutes, his quads, every damn line of him sculpted like he was built for my eyeballs. Who even allowed this? Who designed these shorts for men and thought it wouldn’t break people?
“…for the rest of the day?” His voice pulls me out of my daze.
I blink. Right. Plans. “I’m editing some photos I took last week, then I have a massage client this afternoon. You?”
Cole gl