Jeffrey stood there shirtless, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, droplets of water still clinging to his skin.
His damp hair glistened under the light, and his freshly showered scent faintly filled the room.
When he saw Rachel standing by the door, his lips curved into a faint smile. "You're here."
"Yeah." She quickly turned her head away, her cheeks warming as discomfort crept up her chest.
"What's wrong? Feeling shy?" His voice was teasing, smooth like velvet, as he stepped closer. "Aren't you going to help me dry my hair? I remember the first time you brought me to your apartment, you were the one who offered to do it after my shower."
"You're too tall for me to reach your hair comfortably. Maybe… you should do it yourself," she murmured.
Before she could finish, he bent down, his face suddenly close to hers. "How about now? Is this better?"
The closeness caught her off guard.
