Chapter 4

CHAPTER

FOUR

Bradley

I'm scrubbing down the lion's habitat when I hear laughter near the entrance. It slices through the growl of my pressure washer like a knife, and I glance up.

Sabrina .

She's all smiles and sunshine at the ticket booth, her ponytail bouncing as she chats with a visitor. My grip tightens around the hose.

Something inside me prickles.

The guy at her window is laying it on thick, college-boy charm dialed up to ten. He leans on the counter, trying for suave but only managing smarmy.

The way he looks at her, like she's some kind of conquest—damn, it gets under my skin.

Jealousy claws at my chest, fierce and unexpected.

"Focus, Bradley," I mutter under my breath, forcing myself to look away. I've got no claim over Sabrina, no reason to feel this surge of possessiveness. But the thought of knocking that smirk off Pretty Boy's face is a sweet fantasy.

Hours slip by, but the image of that flirt lingers like a bad smell. I keep an eye out, telling myself it's just part of the job, making sure everything's secure.

That's when I see him again—the same kid from this morning, only now he's staggering, booze clearly having the best of him.

He makes a beeline for Sabrina, who's busy counting the day's earnings, unaware.

My heart hammers against my ribcage, instincts screaming. As he reaches out, grabbing her arm, everything in me snaps. No way I'm standing back.

"Hey!" My voice booms across the space as I stride over, muscles coiled and ready. I grab the punk by his collar, yanking him back. "That's enough."

Sabrina's eyes are wide, a mix of fear and relief as she takes in the scene. The drunk kid's spewing apologies, but I'm not having it. With a shove that sends a clear message, I send him stumbling away from us, back towards the exit.

"Are you okay?" I ask, my voice softer now, just for her.

She nods, brushing off her shirt where he touched her. "Yeah, thanks to you, Bradley." There's a slight tremor in her voice that tells me she's shaken.

"Bradley, huh?" I can't help the small quirk of my lips. So she knows my name.

"Sorry, I—" She bites her lip, looking up at me. "I've seen you around. I'm Sabrina."

"Nice to officially meet you, Sabrina." It's weird, we've worked the same patch of earth for months without crossing paths until now. But here we are, names exchanged, and the air between us charged with something raw and unspoken.

We stand there for a heartbeat too long, the tension thick. Her hazel eyes flicker to mine, and there's heat there, undeniable. I want to lean in, taste the strawberry gloss I bet she's wearing, but I hold back.

But then she licks her lips, and I feel my cock start leaking in my pants.

Fuck me.