There's no sign of Judah when I turn up to his place. In fact, I'm not sure if there's anyone at all; it's eerily quiet, the faint sound of the shower running in the back, as I place the key-that's usually kept hidden behind a loose brick-down on the counter. I slip off my trainers and drop my bag onto the floor, fishing out my phone from my pocket, as I walk down the narrow corridor, past the three bedrooms, and into the newly built, open kitchen-living room area.

The building Valentino and Judah live in was one of the newer apartment complexes in the area, and to be frank, I was quite perplexed when I first visited the apartment many months ago. Valentino, however, was quick to mention that his late father left behind a generous sum of inheritance money for the Savestano siblings. According to the younger brother, Judah was paid pretty nicely at his last job.

Dropping my shoulders in relief, I glance around the bright apartment, eyeing the windows that lead to the balcony, and overlooking the garden of the apartment complex. After grabbing a small bag of cashews from the snack cabinet, I found myself dropping onto the cream sofa. I slip off my thick sweatshirt, the growing heat making me uncomfortable, and shoot a text Cobie's way. Either he was pissing around with Valentino and Kazuo somewhere in London, or I was just here super early. Looking up at the clock, I was beginning to lead towards the later.

I grumble under my breath and reach for the TV remote, dropping a handful of cashews into my mouth as I begin to chew slowly. I don't know how long I stay there-lounging around the living room-skipping through the numerous channels, but when the sound of someone clearing their throat permeates my senses, I'm quick to snap out of my trance. I glance up at the clock, noting that it was now ten-past-five, and turn around to face the intruder.

Of course, luck is never on my side, because standing before me in all his glory is the one man that has kept me up all night-and not in the sense that would keep me satisfied. Judah Savestano is standing behind me, big arms crossed over his tattooed chest, hair dripping wet, and a towel secured around his torso. I try, I really do, to refrain from making a stupid noise, but the sound that rumbles from the back of my throat is something between a squeal and a groan.

Judah simply raises an eyebrow, lips pulling up into a ghost of a smile, but all I can do is stare at his broad shoulders, the tattoos decorated across his abs, and smile nervously. I can just about make out his tan skin beneath all the ink, watching in awe when he runs his fingers through his black hair-the ends dripping with water as he flexes his biceps in the process-but it's the droplets of water rolling down the side of his neck, down his Adam's apple, and towards his chest that have me swallowing thickly.

I thought I heard someone enter, he murmurs, turning his back to me to walk towards his fridge. How did you get in?

Ever since that toe-curling kiss on Waterloo Bridge, neither one of us have mentioned it, and to be honest, I think I preferred it that way. Alas, it didn't help the fact that right now, I want to do nothing more than jump his bones. The face towel he grips in his hands exposes the prominent veins running along his forearms, throwing it over his shoulder while he lowers his head to glance into the fridge.

I punch the air and clutch my chest when he's not looking, tugging at my hair in agony as I groan to myself when I catch sight of his smooth back; his back muscles rippling with every move, the intricate designs of the tattoos on his back leaving me short of breath. Judah Savestano is one hot fucking bastard, and it physically pains me that he had no idea exactly what he was doing to me.

This isn't good for my well-being. Not at all.

A shaky sigh slips past my lips as I make my way towards him, back against the countertop. There's a key behind the loose brick in the wall. Valentino usually keeps it there, I say, pointing to the small object glinting in the sunlight. I don't realise exactly how close I've gotten to him, because when he stands up straight again, the scent of his shower gel hits me full force, and despite only standing a few feet away from him, I can tell that he's radiating an unbelievable amount of warmth.

Oh, I was wondering where that spare key went, he says to himself, clearing his throat before facing me once more. Judah's roughly 6'5, towering over me, as I watch him uncap the lip of his water bottle, bringing the neck to his lips before tipping his head back. I shift on my feet awkwardly, eyeing the way his Adam's apple bobs as he downs the liquid.

Valentino not here yet? Cobie? Kazuo? He asks.

I'm about to answer his question when I feel his palm against my skin, and right now, I want to punch myself for wearing a cropped jumper with cycling shorts. Judah's standing exceptionally close; my lips brush his neck when he lowers his body, not flinching at the contact, reaching for something behind me. My throat runs dry, eyes dancing across his chest and running over the silver chain that dangled around his neck.

But before I can ask what he's playing at, Judah gestures towards the bin behind me, I just need to throw this away.

The empty bottle that once resided in his hands, now sits in the trash can; however, I don't miss the way his lips tilt up into a knowing smirk until he's moving his hands to my back and pulling me closer. A soft gasp tumbles from my lips at the contact, careful not to drop the loose cashews in my hand.

What are you... what are you doing, Judah? I breathe out, peering up at him through my thick lashes.

My mind is screaming at me to step back, to stop whatever it is that's about to brew, but I don't listen. I stay. I stay wondering exactly what's running through the head of the stormy-eyed man, because a small part of me wants to know if he's completely brushed off Thursday evening-if Thursday evening even happened at all in his mind-I want to know what's stopping him from addressing the situation. But a small part of me is also curious to know if he's willing to take things further.

It's rude to steal someone's snacks, Aiyana, he says teasingly, curling his rough fingers around my wrist. Before I can question his actions, he's bringing my hand to his mouth, lips parting as he passes the loose cashews into his mouth, and when he's done, he doesn't let go of my wrist.

I'm as tense as an A-Level student waiting to find out if they've gotten into their first-choice university, which in my opinion, that's pretty damn tense. Judah holds my gaze, and neither one of us dare to look away. I don't think I could even if I tried.

But it's his next question that has my mouth parting in shock-at both the honesty of it all, but also at the abruptness-and swallowing thickly.

Is it bad that I want to kiss you again?He whispers, dropping his head to press his forehead against mine. Because in all honesty, you've got me fucked up, Aiyana Sen.

I can't find it in myself to speak, so I shake my head. In fact, I crave to feel his lips on mine once more, to taste him once more.

One kiss won't hurt... right? I find myself saying, freeing my hands of the small packet of cashews.

As soon as it hits the floor with a soft thud, Judah's arms are curling around my waist, pulling me flush against his body. My arms move to wrap around his neck on instinct, his lips teasingly brushing against mine as I lift my head to meet him halfway.

One kiss won't hurt, he murmurs against my lips.

I groan softly, wishing he'd close the distance between us, and before I know it my eyes are fluttering close, sighing in content when he finally presses his lips against mine softly. And when he does, it feels as though time has stopped, because the only thing I can touch and feel, and taste is the man standing before me.

Heart pounding against my chest erratically, knees growing weaker as the seconds pass, I could only focus on the way Judah's fingers brushed my bare back, rough calluses leaving a trail of heat in their wake to the way they curl around my waist. Judah was addicting, tempting, invading all my senses, and if it wasn't clear before then, it was now; the warm, safe feeling he brought was nothing like what I've felt before. And I wanted more, and more, and more.

There's a flash of heat running through my body as he briefly pulls away before claiming my lips once more. It almost feels forbidden-the way he holds me, kisses me. I move my hands from his neck, bringing them to his chest, relishing the feeling of his smooth, silky skin beneath my palms.

No-one else existed but us.

Until they did.

Oh my fucking God. Bring me some fucking bleach. My eyes are burning. Burning! I want to unsee,a voice screeches. And just like that, Judah and I are reminded that it's not just the two of us.