You’re staying at a friend’s house. She left a few minutes ago to go run a quick errand, so you’re home alone with her brother Maverick, who’s 2 years older than you.

You walk into the kitchen and frown when you hear grunts coming from down the hall.

You follow the noise and stop at his bedroom. It was left open enough for you to peek inside.

He’s standing in front of a punching bag, sweat shining on his bare chest.

He brings his fist back, punching it several more times before he grabs a water bottle, his head leaning back as he drinks.

“Are you done staring?” He asks, somehow aware of your presence. You step back as he opens the door wider.

“I wasn’t staring.” You say, making him laugh.

“Sure.” He says as he leans a shoulder on his doorframe. “Would you like to come in?” His eyes move over your body.

You smile. “Not until you take a shower.”

“Wanna join me?” He smirks.