Abigail?

Abigail stood frozen outside the driver's room, her fingers tightening around the edges of the tray she carried. The scent of warm cinnamon rolls curled in the air, mixing with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, but she barely noticed it.

Her heart pounded furiously and her entire body locked in place as she stared, her mind struggling to process what she was seeing.

Jamal.

Standing there.

Why?

Her wide eyes darted over him, her lips parting in shock as she took in his brown, damp curls that clung to his forehead, drops of water trailing down his bare shoulders, his toned chest. The faint scent of soap and something undeniably him drifted in the air between them.

No. No, this wasn't real.

She was probably seeing things now because she had been thinking of him and had dreamt of him

Her fingers trembled around the tray as she blinked rapidly. Once.

Still him.