KOURTNEY

"It's nice to make your acquaintance, Mr—" I started, my voice suddenly sounding like it belonged to someone else, someone far more poised than the girl currently burning in a wild, unfamiliar way.

"Silas," he interrupted softly, his voice cutting through my formal tone like a hot knife through butter. "Please, Kourtney. Call me Silas. Mister makes me feel like I’m about to give a corporate lecture, and I’m clearly not dressed for it."

He gave a small, pointed look down at the towel around his waist, and the memory of what was underneath it flashed in my mind like a strobe light.

I felt the heat rush to...