He gently squeezes my wrist. “Look at me, Lucia.” When I raise my gaze to his, he leans in a little. “I hardly got any sleep last night because of you.”

“I’m sorry—”

“I was shocked by what you did at first. Then I got annoyed. I thought, ‘If it were reversed where she woke up and found me touching her, the cops would be on me so fast, my head would spin.’”

Instantly, the image of waking up to Mr. Taylor touching me comes to mind. I imagine lying on my side on my bed, but waking up to feeling his big, warm body behind me. His lips at my neck, his hand drifting past my stomach. Between my legs ache at the shameful thought. Unfortunately, Mr. Taylor must have mind-reading powers.

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” When I don’t answer him, he tugs me closer. His voice is silky seduction when he speaks. “I was thinking about it too. After I got over my annoyance, I was up for most of the night thinking about touching you, and doing a lot more than that to you.”

Stunned yet thrilled by his confession, I don’t know what to say. My best friend’s dad just admitted he thought about touching me.