Then, finally—his voice, muffled but steady:
“Come in, Lucas.”
My heart jolts, and I open the bathroom door with shaky hands and step inside. He’s still inside the massive glass stall,but he’s facing away from me. And my breath catches the moment I see him, he’s naked, water trails down the broad stretch of his back, and muscles shift subtly beneath skin as he moves. His dark hair is plastered to the nape of his neck. His powerful shoulders rise and fall in a slow, steady rhythm that contrasts with the wild thundering in my chest.
I drag my gaze upward, forcing myself to focus on the safe places: his shoulders, his back, the sharp dip of his waist. Avoiding—barely—his perfectly sculpted ass that has my face heating up like a furnace.
fuck, I’ve seen him like this before, but it still gets to me.
Lord, have mercy. Am I seriously checking him out right now?
After everything?
He turns his head slightly, just enough to catch me in his periphery.
And then his eyes find mine.
We don’t speak.
We just look.
And that look—steady, unreadable, burning, hits me so hard I almost stumble back.
It’s like he’s trying to read me, strip me down without touching me.
Like he wants to say something, but can’t.
Then, softly, almost like a growl—
“Come here.”
I bite my lip. The command ripples through me like a shiver, but my feet stay planted.
“I already showered…” I whisper, voice barely audible
Alex tilts his head, eyes still on me. He doesn’t reply. He doesn’t have to. That look is answer enough.
He’s not asking. He’s waiting.
I exhale, hands twitching at the hem of the shirt I’m wearing, ready to unbutton it.
But his voice stops me.
“Don’t take it off, Lucas,” he says firmly
His eyes never leave mine.
“Just get in here.”
So I do.
My legs feel unsteady as I step forward, one breath at a time, pushing past the glass door into the shower. The steam curls around us like a veil, and for a moment, I forget how to breathe.
Alex shifts slightly, positioning himself so that the water pours down his back, angled just enough that it doesn’t hit my face, hair, and hearing aids.
The water hits my chest, warm and steady, soaking through the cotton of his shirt that clings to my skin, heavy now, almost suffocating, but not in a bad way. It feels like him. Like I’m wrapped in him.
But he still hasn’t touched me, and that’s what’s unraveling me the most.
