Chapter Twenty-Seven
I turned down the hallway that led to my room and hit a wall. Stumbling back, I looked up, realizing that it wasn’t a wall but a very firm chest. Ian wrapped an arm around my waist, keeping me from falling to the floor.
“Careful Izzy,” Ian said. He smelled like the coffee from breakfast. I rested a hand on his chest, trying to regain my footing. I couldn’t help but feel his firm, muscular chest beneath my palm. Sure, he had on a sweater, but the material was far too thin.
“Sorry, I was lost in my head,” I said, stepping back from him. He let his arm fall from around me and I saw his empty coffee mug clutched in his hand. “Taking a break?”
“Yeah, my brain is a bit fried.” He said, scratching the stubble on his cheek. “Would you maybe want to take a walk with me?”
