“This is the fourth floor,” I said, “unless we went the wrong way from the stairs.” I hazarded opening another door leading off this room, but that one led into a private bathroom with a marble bathtub. “Whoa. That tub is bigger than my whole bathroom at home.” I tried the third door; this one led back into the hallway. “You want I should check down the other end?” I asked Aidan, who looked a little lost.
“I…” He spread out his hands.
“I’ll go check. Maybe you’re right, and this is meant for the Boss and Mr. D. Seems too much to be for guests.”
I went back to the stairs and made sure that we’d turned left, like Ms. Donovan had said. Then, just to make sure, I went all the way down the other end of the house, but there was only one bedroom there, and it was even bigger than the ones we’d looked at—plus it was only the one room, and Ms. Donovanhadsaid I was next to Aidan.
And then I heard a shout from above me, and the faintboingof bedsprings, and I realized that Mr. D and the Boss were in the bedroom above.
I got away from that side of the house fast. No way I wanted to hear those two getting it on, or whatever the hell they were doing.
“These are ours,” I announced, arriving back to the first room, where Aidan was staring out the window. “Process of elimination.”
Aidan shook his head in wonder. “Finch really…came from money, didn’t he?”
“He sure did. So I guess this one’s yours?” I said, going into the second room again, the one with the attached bathroom.
“I don’t really mind,” Aidan said. “Although—the view of Boston Common from the first room is amazing.”
“You want that one, the smaller room?” I asked, just to confirm. The idea of sleeping in that huge fucking bedroom, staring down at a perfect yard, pretending I owned it, having a marble bathtub to swim around in…
“Smaller is a relative term,” Aidan pointed out. “But, yes. If you don’t mind, I’d prefer this room.”
“You should have the one with the bathroom, though,” I said, trying to remember my place in the hierarchy. I stuck my nose into the bathroom again. “Man, I’d love to have a bath in that tub, though. My place in Brooklyn only has a tiny shower. Can’t even turn around without bumping your funny bone against the wall.”
“There’s a bathroom down the hall which will do me fine. Anyway, we have an hour until drinks. So why don’t you try the bathtub now?”
“Nah. I’m on duty.”
“I’ll go shower down the hall and then come back here. Luca and Finch can’t reasonably expect you to watch me in the shower, can they?”
I hesitated, partly because his words conjured up a forbidden image, and partly because I really wanted to get into that damn tub, but I didn’t feel right about it. “You should shower in this bathroom,” I tried.
Aidan smiled. “Go have your bath, Teo. Enjoy it. Please. I want you to.”
Well, if the man insisted…
“Okay,” I said. “But, uh—maybe just keep it between us?”
At that, Aidan grinned. “My lips are sealed.”
* * *
I thoughtthe bathtub would take a lot longer to fill than it did, but the Donovan house had some mad water pressure or something, because it was full enough to get into without shivering within five minutes. There were fancy oils in bottles around the side, but I ignored them. All I wanted was hot fucking water, and to soak in that baby for at least ten minutes. Maybe twenty. The shower at home never got much hotter than warm, but the steam pouring off of the water like it was soup on the stove told me it was going to be one damn hot bath—and that was what my muscles needed.
A car chase and punch in the ribs from an airbag, plus that day’s long drive to Boston, had me feeling stiff and uncomfortable. I wanted to just float for a while, let my mind empty. I got in before I turned the faucet off, letting the water find its equilibrium, and then turned them off once I was happy with the level. It was almost scorching hot. Perfect.
I ignored the loofahs and scrubbing brushes, but I did grab the rubber pillow thing on offer, wrapped it around my neck, then lay out in the bathtub, stretching every part of my body from my toes to my neck and back again.
I closed my eyes, gave a happy sigh, and promised myself I’d just be ten minutes.
Just ten.
Chapter Twelve
Aidan
I’d showered, dressed, and prayed for guidance, and now it was getting awfully close to five o’clock. I didn’t think Tara Donovan would mind if we were five minutes late—it would probably be good manners, in fact, to be five minutesafterfive—but it was a quarter to the hour and Teo was still in the bathroom, with no sound coming from it.
