“What are you doing?” I ask, my voice shrill, my emotions going haywire. On one side I’m pissed that he had the nerve to just bust in on me like this. On the other side, I’m thrilled he’s proven persistent after all. Typically confused. That’s normal when it comes to my feelings for Shep. “Looking for you,” he says simply as he strides into the bathroom and turns to lock the door, and then the deadbolt above it. “The lock in the handle doesn’t really work,” he explains as he turns to face me. “Yeah, just realized that.” He would know this, considering it’s his frat house and all. How could I be so stupid, thinking I could escape him? He’s everywhere. “I don’t want to talk to you. And I definitely don’t want you locking us in here together.” “We have to talk.” He leans against the door, looking freaking amazing. God, I hate him. It’s like he didn’t even try and he looks like pure sex. Wearing a charcoal colored T-shirt that stretches across his broad shoulders and chest, accompanied by dark rinse jeans that mold to his thighs, reminding me exactly how strong and thick they are.
