The bathroom door opened, and Layson stepped out wearing nothing but a white towel wrapped loosely around his waist. Water dripped from his still-damp hair, trailing down his neck and shoulders.
“Go take a shower,” he said casually, his deep voice breaking the silence.
Adela, who had been lost in thought on the sofa, jerked her head up at the sound. Her eyes widened when she saw him like that—barefoot, broad-shouldered, and utterly unbothered by his state of undress. Her face turned a deep shade of red, hotter than she thought possible.
“Uh… okay,” she stammered, standing abruptly. She scrambled to make her way past him, her movements so awkward she almost stepped on his foot in the process.
By the time she returned from her shower, wearing a loose robe and toweling her wet hair, Layso
