Play With Fire (The Men of Fire 1)

I have to face him sooner or later, and it’s probably best I get it over and done with. I just wish it wasn’t so hard for me to breathe when I’m around him. I can’t think when he’s near. This man is going to draw me in, and I’m pretty sure it might just kill me … in the best way possible.

I turn off the taps and step out of my shower before reaching for my towel, only my hand falls flat. My eyes bulge out of my head. Where the fuck is my towel?

My eyes flick from left to right. “Shit,” I groan low, starting to panic. I’m in trouble. In my haste to get away from Bull, I stormed in here without thinking it through. Now I’m standing here butt naked without a towel and no clean clothes.

Options, options, options.

Chill the fuck out, Amelia. You’ve got this.

I take a deep breath and slowly let it out before calmly looking around and realizing my options aren’t great. I can either call out for Bull to come and save me, which I have no doubt he would absolutely love. He’d swoop in like some kind of knight in bulging muscles and promise not to peek, but it’s no secret that he’d be lying just to make me feel better about the situation. I can grab a roll of toilet paper and wrap it around me like a mummy until all the important bits are covered, then make a break for it. Or I can do the dreaded nudie run and hope to God he’s not standing out in the hallway.

Damn it. These aren’t great options.

Standing here and freezing for the rest of the night is looking pretty damn good right about now, though my nipples don’t really agree. They’re sharp enough to cut right through glass and are begging for some warmth.

I could put my old clothes back on … no. No, no, no, no. Hard pass. Not after the day I had. I spent the morning making homemade playdough with the girls—which somehow ended up everywhere—went to the gym with Zoey, and then spent the afternoon painting. So, no, there’s no way I’m putting that shit back on.

Fuck, I really need that damn towel.

I swallow my pride and get on with it.

“Bull?” I call out, feeling the dread wash over me.

I hear him walk up to the bathroom door. “Yeah?” he questions slowly, his tone as cocky as can be, probably thrilled that I need him.

I let out a sigh hanging my head. “I forgot to grab a towel.”

The chuckles continue before I hear a soft thump against the bathroom door. “You realize if you weren’t trying to get away from me so quickly, this probably wouldn’t have happened?”

I roll my eyes but can’t help the traitorous smile that cuts across my face. “Are you going to get me a towel or not?” I find myself leaning against the door, loving that he’s so close on the other side. “I’m more than happy to wait you out.”

“I didn’t realize you were such a liar,” he tells me. “What on earth would your girls say about that?”

“My girls would say that I’m a fucking Rockstar no matter what the cause,” I laugh.

“Somehow, I don’t doubt that.”

“So, what’s the holdup, buddy? Are you getting me a towel, or would you prefer that I freeze?”

“First off, I'm not your ‘buddy,’ I’m your man. And second, I’m trying to work out if I should do you this favor out of the kindness of my heart or if I should be taking advantage.”

I shake my head, feeling like a teenager again as I grin wide. “Forget about it. I’m not about to flash you,” I say, skipping right over the ‘your man’ comment.

Bull laughs to himself, and I hear as he pushes off the door and takes a few steps down the hall, stopping by the hallway cupboard and hopefully pulling out a towel.

He raps on the door, letting me know he’s back, and I reach for the handle, keeping my body hidden behind the door. I open it a slither and laugh as the towel appears through the door.

I hastily grab it and wrap it around myself before letting the door fall open between us. Bull grins down at me like a twelve-year-old boy who just saw his first set of tits. “What?” I question, double-checking that the towel is firmly wrapped around the front of me, and nothing important is poking out.

His grin never falters. “I know you were trying to be discreet and hide behind the door and all, but you forgot about the mirror.”

I whip around and take in my reflection before sucking in a breath. “Damn it,” I grumble. “You couldn’t have been a gentleman and looked away?”

His head shakes, and that grin morphs into one hell of an alluring smirk. “I couldn’t look away from that ass even if I tried.”