His Six-Pack, My Mortifying Secret
“You taste like coffee and regret,” he murmurs, his breath hot against my lips.
My professor’s lips.
The same professor whose perfectly sculpted abs I’d used as a washboard just two weeks ago.
His voice is low, a stark contrast to the frantic drumming of my heart against my ribs, so loud I’m sure he can hear it.
I can’t breathe.
I can’t think.
All I know is that this is a terrible, wonderful, world-ending mistake.
And I have absolutely no idea how I got here.
§01
It all started with a six-pack.
A glorious, impossibly real, eight-hundred-dollar six-pack that my best friend, Sadie Redford, was supposed to be wearing.
“Just get to The Grind Café at seven, Wills,” she’d chirped over the phone, her voice buzzing with excitement. “I’ve got a birthday surprise for you that’ll finally cure your twenty years of being tragically single.”
I’d laughed. “If your surprise is another blind date with someone from the anime club, I swear I’ll disown you.”
“Oh, it’s much, much better than that,” she’d promised. “Think tall, dark, and devastatingly handsome. My latest masterpiece.”
Sadie wasn’t just my best friend; she was a legend in the cosplay community. A true artist. She could transform herself into anyone, from ethereal elves to battle-hardened warriors. Her male characters were particularly convincing, a fact I loved to tease her about.
So when I walked into the café, dressed to the nines and buzzing with anticipation, I knew exactly what to look for.
And there he was.
Sitting by the floor-to-ceiling window, bathed in the golden light of the setting sun, was a man who looked like he’d walked straight out of a romance novel cover.
Broad shoulders tapered to a narrow waist. Long legs, clad in perfectly tailored dark trousers, were stretched out before him. A crisp white Oxford shirt was stretched taut across a chest that could only be described as divine, with the clear outline of chiseled abs visible underneath.
His hair was a messy tumble of dark waves, and though I couldn’t see his eyes, the sharp line of his jaw could cut glass.
He was the living embodiment of every ridiculously high standard I’d ever had.
And he had Sadie’s face.
Well, a masculinized, sharper, impossibly handsome version of Sadie’s face.
A wave of affection washed over me.
She’d done this for me. My best friend had strapped on pounds of silicone, squeezed into a muscle suit, and donned who-knows-how-many shoe inserts, all to give me my birthday wish: a date with a ridiculously hot guy.
Tears pricked my eyes. She was the best.
Without a second thought, I launched myself across the café.
I crashed into his arms, burying my face in his chest, which felt shockingly solid and warm.
I immediately started my quality control inspection, my hands roaming freely. “How many shoe inserts are you wearing? And this muscle suit is incredible! Oh my god, Sadie, you’re the best friend a girl could ask for.”
I gave his pectoral muscle a firm squeeze. It was firm, yet springy. Top-tier silicone.
Then, my hands slid down to his abdomen, kneading the defined ridges of his abs. There was none of that weird, rubbery feeling I’d expected. It was shockingly realistic.
I even pressed my cheek against his stomach, rubbing it vigorously like a cat marking its territory, letting out a happy hum.
I felt the body beneath me go completely rigid.
Ah, she was getting into character. The strong, silent type. I admired her commitment. Cosplayers hate breaking character.
I pulled my head back, a mischievous grin on my face. “Don’t be shy now,” I teased, my voice a conspiratorial whisper. “Let me see what you’ve got stuffed down there to make it look so... authentic.”
And with the speed of a striking viper, I reached down and grabbed.
The texture was soft. And warm.
And then, very suddenly, not so soft anymore.
A strangled groan rumbled from deep within his chest.
Before I could process this new, unexpected data and retract my hand, a horrified gasp echoed from behind me.
“Willa, what are you doing to my brother?!”
§02
Time shattered.
My body was still catching up to the information my ears had just delivered. My hand was still… located in its unfortunate position.
I turned my head with the slow, creaking dread of a horror movie protagonist.
And there she was. Sadie. My best friend. The one who was supposed to be *under* me, currently standing *behind* me, her eyes wide with terror, her hands clapped over her mouth.
The gears in my brain finally, violently, clicked into place.
My gaze snapped back to the man I was currently straddling.
Not Sadie.
Definitely not Sadie.
*Her brother.*
I scrambled off him with a yelp, nearly sending our small table, the lattes, and my entire dignity crashing to the floor.
“Sadie?” I croaked, my voice barely a whisper. “You’re here? Then… who is this?”
I pointed a trembling finger at the man, who was now frantically adjusting his shirt, his trousers, his entire existence.
“Your brother?!”
Sadie looked like she wanted the floor to swallow her whole. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and gave a single, devastating nod.
Something exploded in my brain. My consciousness evacuated the premises. My face was so hot I was pretty sure it was about to achieve nuclear fusion.
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