Page 10 of Bottle Shock
“Who the hell is in here?” she demands, her voice a full octave higher than before.
“It’s—it’s Gavin,” I croak from behind the partition.
“You scared me!” She lets out a long breath. “Why are you hiding like a creep?”
“I’m—I’m not wearing any clothes.” I wince, closing my eyes, heat rushing over my skin.
She gasps before letting out a maniacal giggle. “Wait! Are you fucking with me or are you really naked?”
God—why, of all people, did it have to be Scottie who walked in? I forgot she’s a bit of a menace. Very unpredictable. Definitely unhinged. And somehow still completely magnetic.
“Really naked,” I mutter as mortification settles over me. “I need you to do me a favor,” I add, trying to keep my voice steady despite how embarrassed I am.
“Listen—I get that I probably interrupted a solo date with your hand but I’m not that kind of?—”
“I wasn’t—that’s not what I was doing. Can you just grab me some clothes? Or maybe…leave, so I can have a little privacy? Please.”
She mutters, half to herself, “Relax, it’s not like I’ve never seen a naked man before.”
I drag a hand down my face. “Scottie.”
“Okay, okay. I’m going.” She laughs under her breath. “Mr. Prude.”
I hear the doorknob twist.
A pause.
Then another twist.
A tug.
A groan.
A louder tug.
What is she doing?
“So…small hiccup,” she calls out. “I can’t get it open. I think it’s stuck.”
Of course it is.
Racking my brain, I try to think of anything in the bathroom I can use to cover myself. The only thing that comes to mind is the small hand towel hanging next to the sink. It’s barely bigger than a washcloth. It’s not going to cover much.
I take in a deep inhale. “There’s a towel on the counter. Toss it my way.”
Instead of the sound of Scottie scrambling to find it, I’m met with silence.
“Are you still there?”
“Sorry,” she says quickly. “Just—processing the situation.”
I exhale, fighting a laugh. “Scottie.”
“Right, right. Towel. Got it.”
Something soft flutters over the top of the partition and lands on the floor beside me.
I don’t even bother trying to wrap it around my waist, knowing it won’t fit. Instead, I just press it over my dick, secure it with one hand, and try to muster up the courage to step out.
