The bathroom tiles were freezing against her bare feet, and the ice bath looked like torture. Clear cubes floated on the surface, clinking softly, the water already clouded with chill.

“You lost, sweetheart,” he said, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. His grin was wicked, sharp, daring her. “Strip. Three minutes in the tub...That was the deal.”

Her stomach tightened. This was insane. But rules were rules. Her friends had laughed, jeered, and finally stumbled away to grab more drinks, leaving only him behind — him, with that infuriating smirk and the watchful eyes that burned into her every move.

She swallowed. “You’re just going to… stand there?”...