He caught them easily. “You could have handed them to me.”
“Nope,” I said, backing up. “Too risky.”
He looked at the shoes, then back at me. “I have never been so confused, and yet so entertained.”
“Fuck my life.” I turned before he saw how much I was not okay.
Cristian disappeared back into the dressing room.
I exhaled, pressing my hands to my face. My pulse hadn’t slowed since he’d walked out wearing that henley. My brain kept circling the same thought:Don’t be the girl who gets horny in a Macy’s.
I tried to focus on anything else—the pattern on the carpet, the buzz of the fluorescent lights overhead, the price tags—but then I heard rustling and a muffled grunt.
“Nadia?”
I froze. “What?”
“I may require assistance,” he said. “Before I tear this garment from my body.”
I rolled my eyes. “You are perfectly capable of undressing yourself.”
“No, really,” he said, sounding far too calm. “I’m in quite the bind.”
I hesitated, then sighed. “Fine. Let me in before you start a scene.”
He opened the door just wide enough for me to slip inside.
I stepped in—and stopped.
The sweater was halfway over his head, caught at his shoulders. His arms were pinned, muscles flexing under thefabric. His chest was bare where the material had ridden up, and he let out a low, frustrated sound that did not help my brain function.
“Oh,” I said faintly. “Yeah. That’s… definitely stuck.”
“I told you,” he said, voice muffled. “It refuses to yield.”
“Okay, hold still,” I said, trying not to look directly at his muscular chest. “If you move, you’ll rip it.”
He didn’t move. I tugged gently. Nothing happened. We adjusted, shuffled, bumped. His breath grazed my temple.
“Lift your arms higher,” I said.
“They are already higher.”
“Okay, well, try harder.”
We kept maneuvering until the fabric finally gave way—and with it, all sense of gravity.
Cristian stumbled forward, catching himself against the wall. I ended up between him and it, our chests touching, both of us breathing hard.
The tether between us hummed, sharp and insistent. When his breath hit my neck, the air changed.
Neither of us moved.
He looked down at me, eyes darker than before. His hand rested at my hip, fingers tense but unmoving. Heat radiated from him, overwhelming my senses.
Every logical part of me screamedstep away.The rest of me wanted him to keep going until I forgot my own name.
Then someone pounded on the door. “Is anyone using this room?”
