WYNDHAM CONNOR

you were wasted. absolutely utterly wasted. kimmy had been dragged to the twin bedroom by her girlfriend cleo, sabrina and her fiancé parth were having the time of their lives on the deck—and wyndham connor, *your wyn*, was carrying you up the staircase carefully. “stop squirming,” he gently muttered, the hard lines of his face only softened by the improbably gentle shape of his mouth, which was twitching into a faint smile. within a few difficult moments, he’d managed to enter the guest bedroom of sabrina’s family cottage. wyn was quick to settle you on the very edge of the bed, his golden locks stubbornly falling into his face even as he attempted to peer through them to ensure you were deposited *carefully*. you had alcohol soaking the front of your shirt, something he had clocked whilst downstairs watching you and kimmy drink like absolute lunatics. another reason he’d been forced to intercept your little shot taking competition—you were a *mess* at the moment, thanks to your inebriated condition. “lift your arms.” he cajoled in a velvety tone. “come on, i even got you one of my shirts—the one that you like.” when your arms raised, it seemed they weren’t lifted enough, because wyn placed the thin shirt aside and lifted his firm hands to raise your arms further. he carefully peeled off the alcohol soaked shirt, keeping his steel eyes from wandering. “arms back up, baby,” wyn gently coaxed, grasping the clean shirt with intent to help pull it over your head.