She went into the bathroom to look in the mirror, and he followed to stand in the door.
“No stitches,” Thomas said. “It’s a gash. Think of it as a bad scrape. It’ll hurt under the water, and the soap will sting, but that’s the best way to do it. Make sure you wash your knees, too. And do an inventory, see if you’ve got any other injuries we missed.”
She winced as she looked down at her knees. “I think I might need help with that.” She realized what that sounded like and immediately backpedaled. “That wasn’t... I wasn’t trying to be like,Why, yes, I do need help in the shower, handsome pizza delivery man.” She shook her head. “No.”
He laughed. “Tash, we need to talk, but—”not right now.She didn’t let him finish.
“Please,pleasedon’t say that kissing me was a mistake,” she said.
“I won’t,” he promised. “Because... it wasn’t. It was... scary, yeah, but...” He cleared his throat. “It was very intentional.”
Both hope and tears flared in her eyes, and the smile she gave him was tremulous. “Okay, so this is gonna sound contrived, but you really can’t say that to me and thennotkiss me again.”
Thomas crossed toward her, and careful only to touch her on the chin to turn her face up to his, he kissed her.
She closed her eyes but she didn’t lean in. She didn’t drop her jacket. She didn’t move. She just brushed her soft lips against his.
And God, she was so sweet.
He made himself step back. “We’ve got things to do before we use the shower to do more than...” He cleared his throat. “Shower. But it’s not just that. It’s... me. Tash, I need time. I need to take this slowly. I hope that’s okay.”
She was holding onto her jacket with both arms as she nodded up at him. “God, yes,” she said. “It’s very okay. It’s absolutely okay. Take all the time you need.”
“Thank you,” he said. “But I can’t say the same to you. Take a shower, and do it fast. When the power goes out, we’ll lose our water. So go. Now.”
He headed back out the door. And as he closed it behind him, he heard Tasha say, “Wait, what? The power’s going out...?”
“Shower,” he told her. “Now.” And he went into the kitchen to fill the sink and every container he could find with water from the tap.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The lights were all still on as Tasha finished drying herself and pulled on her bathrobe.
Thomas must’ve heard the water shut off, because he spoke through the bathroom door. “Let me in as soon as you’re decent.”
“I’m always decent,” she’d told him, opening the door.
Thomas was standing right there, waiting, wearing only those pajama pants and the soot from his as-yet-untold long story, the first-aid kit in his hands.
Tasha’s heart flipped as she met his steady gaze. He’d kissed her. Intentionally. It still seemed surreal.
He stepped forward, and she moved back so he could come into the still-steamy bathroom.
“I meant dressed,” he corrected himself as he set down the first-aid kit on the sink. “Or robed. Robed will do.”
“Good thing, because my clothes need some serious soaking.” She’d left her jeans and socks in a pile on the floor with her jacket. Her bloody shirt was still out in the living room.
“Don’t wash them,” he said, reaching into the shower to turn the water back on. “Just hang them up, so they dry.”
“Oh, no, but they’rereallynasty,” Tasha told him.
“They’ll be even nastier if—when—we have to put them on wet.” As he spoke, he turned slightly away and shucked off his pants as if getting naked while having a conversation was the most natural thing in the world for him.
She was so surprised—his legs were impossibly long and muscular and powerful, ending in the universe’s most perfect ass. She swiftly turned away, but the force of her sudden movement made her stumble. She tripped over her own feet and slammed into the wall opposite the sink with her shoulder, because of course she did.
Thomas was instantly at her side, catching her by the elbow. “Are you okay?”
Fortunately she’d hit the wall with the non-injured side of her body, otherwise she’d be completely unable to speak. As it was, she’d jarred herself andouch.
