Kyler was a heavy sleeper. I didn’t even bother trying to call his cell. Nothing short of a nuclear bomb would wake him up.

My gaze flicked to the e-reader. Damn it, I’d lost my page. And it was just getting good. Hades had shown up in a convenience store. Le sigh. Tapping the screen, I went back several—

The door behind me suddenly opened, and I was falling into empty space. I twisted around, my hand colliding with warm, bare flesh. Warm, hard bare flesh. A strong arm went around my waist, catching me before I face-planted on a flat, brown male nipple.

Oh dear God in Heaven…

I jerked back, breaking the hold. Air rushed out of my lungs and my eyes went wide. I was face-to-face with the perfect pecs—the kind of pecs anyone would want to touch. My eyes did this wandering thing without my consent, and there was so much golden flesh on display that it was like a scene from Magic Mike coming alive. Messed-up thing was that I’d seen Kyler half-naked more times than I cared to admit, but doing so never failed to amaze me.

Kyler was an avid runner and skier when the seasons were right, which was reflected in his body. Smooth skin stretched over ridiculously defined abs. He even had those indents on the inside of his narrow hips. There was a little brown mole just left of his belly button. For some reason, I was always fascinated by that tiny dot.

He was wearing boxers—boxers with red Santa hats and multicolored presents on them. Now that was a Christmas package a lot of people wouldn’t mind finding tucked under their Christmas tree.

A lot of people included me.

Heat swamped my cheeks. My brain was so going to get a stern talking to, but Kyler… yeah, he put that ‘oo’ in swoon.

Full lips curved into a half-smirk, like he knew what I was thinking, his brown hair was in a serious need of a brush. It looked like he’d spent the night with someone running their fingers through it.

My stomach dropped. I’d gone back to the dorm last night before he’d left the bar. He wouldn’t have brought Blondie home. Wait. What was I thinking? He so would’ve brought Blondie home.

“You smell like… French vanilla cappuccino.”

I blinked. His voice was deep and raspy from sleep. “Huh? Oh, I dropped my coffee. Sorry.”

A half-smile appeared. “You’re early.”

“No I’m not.”

“You’re early as usual,” he continued, stepping aside. He glanced over his shoulder at the sound of water being turned on in the bathroom. He sighed. “You’re not going to be happy.”

I felt the blood rush out of my face, which was stupid. I totally did not care with a capital D. “I’m fine. I can wait in the hallway.”