His Soft Obsession

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Ain’t No Way I’m Not Touched Yet

Lyric

The house was quiet.

Soft music played from my little Bluetooth speaker in the kitchen — old Summer Walker, the kind that made your heart ache and your thighs clench at the same time.

Zay was in the living room, laid out on the couch, flipping through his phone like he didn’t just wreck my thoughts with one damn towel and a peek of something that shouldn’t even be legal.

And me?

I was in the laundry room, trying — and failing — to fold a pair of leggings without thinking about his thing.

Yes. Thing.

That demon weapon hiding in those sweats.

I swear I only caught a glimpse — nothing too obvious.

But baby…

That man is huge.

Not “maybe it’s the angle” huge.

Not “let me not hype it” huge.

But he-gonna-ruin-your-life huge.

And the way he walked around like it was nothing?

L