Chapter 2 – Shirtless

LILA

I woke up the next morning to silence. Not the cozy, familiar silence of my old apartment, where I could hear the faint hum of traffic and neighbors shouting through thin walls. This silence was heavier, too perfect, like even the walls here had been designed not to creak.

The sheets beneath me smelled faintly of lavender, fresh and expensive. My mom had insisted the maid make up my room before we arrived, so everything was pristine—white comforter, silky pillows, matching furniture that looked like it came straight from a catalog. It should have felt like luxury, but instead it felt like I didn’t belong. Like I was tiptoeing through someone else’s fantasy.

I threw off the covers and padded toward the bathroom. My oversized sweater hung loose around my thighs, paired with the shorts I’d worn to bed. No makeup, messy hair. Just me, as normal as I could manage in a mansion that screamed I didn’t fit.

The hallway stretched wide, lined with portraits of people I didn’t know. Their painted eyes seemed to follow me as I stepped out, barefoot, into the cool marble corridor.

And that was when I froze.

Ryder.

Half-naked.

Leaning casually against the wall like the hallway belonged to him—and maybe it did—wearing nothing but gray sweatpants slung low on his hips. His chest was bare, muscles taut and inked with black lines that curved over his shoulders and down his arms. Tattoos coiled across his skin in patterns that made my eyes linger too long.

My stomach dropped. Heat crawled up the back of my neck.

His gaze lifted slowly from his phone, and when his gray eyes landed on me, he smirked.

“Well,” he drawled, voice rough from sleep. “Morning, princess.”

I blinked hard, like that would erase the sight of him standing there, shirtless and smug, the kind of vision that made every nerve in my body hum. But no—he was real. Too real.

“You… you should put on a shirt,” I said, forcing the words out, my voice embarrassingly thin.

“Why?” He tilted his head, his smirk growing. “Bothering you already?”

I shook my head too quickly, arms crossing over my chest as if that could shield me from the weight of his stare. “No. I just… this is a hallway. People walk through here.”

“Exactly.” He shoved his phone into his pocket, pushing off the wall with lazy grace. His steps were slow, deliberate, like a predator closing distance. My pulse hammered as he stopped in front of me, too close, heat radiating from his skin.

“Tell me something, Lila.” His voice dropped lower, smoother, intimate. “Is it the tattoos that make you nervous… or the fact that I don’t mind you looking?”

My breath hitched.

I hated that he was right. I had been looking. Noticing the sharp lines of muscle across his stomach, the way the ink curved dangerously close to his collarbone, the faint sheen of sweat that made him look like he’d just come from a workout.

“I wasn’t looking,” I lied.

“Sure you weren’t.” He chuckled under his breath, a dark sound that sent another wave of heat spiraling through me. “Your eyes tell a different story, princess.”

He leaned in, close enough that I caught the faint scent of soap and something undeniably him—masculine, sharp, intoxicating.

“Don’t worry,” he murmured, his lips near my ear. “I don’t mind being your morning view.”

Every muscle in my body tightened. My fingers curled into fists, not because I wanted to push him away but because I didn’t trust myself not to pull him closer.

“You’re unbelievable,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

“Mm.” His smirk deepened. “So I’ve been told.”

He stepped back finally, like he hadn’t just burned my skin with nothing but proximity. Turning, he started walking down the hall with unhurried strides, his tattoos shifting across his back with every movement.

I stood frozen, trying to catch my breath, trying to erase the way his words clung to me. But my gaze—traitorous, weak—slid down to where his sweatpants hung low, revealing just enough to make my cheeks flame hotter.

Ryder didn’t look back. He didn’t have to.

Because just before he turned the corner, his voice echoed back to me, smug and certain.

“See you around, princess. Try not to stare too hard next time.”

And I knew I was screwed.