Clyde stood by the edge of the lake, unmoving, one hand slowly rising to pinch the bridge of his nose.
What the hell was Micah thinking?
The boy had just stripped down to his underwear, right in front of him, without a second thought. No shame. No hesitation. Just pure recklessness.
He really needed to teach Micah some damn self-awareness.
Clyde sighed, hard and low. He was confident in his own restraint, sure. But for a split second back there, he had felt something give. Something flickers, hot and dangerous, at the edge of his control. And if even he, with his iron will, felt that…
What if someone else had been here?
What if some creep saw Micah like that, wet skin, flushed cheeks, that sharp collarbone and narrow waist, all exposed under the sunlight, with no one else around?
Damn it.
