In. Out. Slow.
The room steadies again.
“Why didn’t you… leave me there?” I ask, the question slipping out before I can stop it. It’s not logical. It’s not fair. It’s the kind of question fear asks when it doesn’t know where else to go.
Derek’s gaze locks on mine. “Because no one was leaving you, especially like that.”
My pulse stutters.
Mark clears his throat loudly, like he’s trying to break the moment before it becomes something too real. “We’re annoyingly loyal.”
Alex nods. “It’s a character flaw.”
I swallow, looking away, because if I look at Derek too long, something in me might break. Or worse—soften.
“I need… to shower,” I say suddenly. “I feel gross. Like my skin doesn’t belong to me.”
Derek nods once. “Guest room’s ready. Towels. Anything you need.”
“And clothes?” I ask, hating how small my voice is.
Mark perks up. “Oh, we have opinions.”
Derek shoots him a warning look. “Ignore him.”
Alex points toward the hallway. “There’s a drawer in the guest bathroom with unopened toothbrushes. Like a hotel.”
“That’s… weirdly thoughtful,” I admit.
Derek’s mouth twitches. “I’m a host.”
Mark snorts. “He’s a control freak.”
Derek’s gaze doesn’t leave mine. “Both can be true.”
I stand slowly, testing my balance. The room sways—but only a little.
Derek’s hand hovers again. Not touching. Waiting.
It’s the waiting that makes me trust him more than the holding would.
“I can walk,” I say.
“I know,” he replies. “I’m just… here.”
There it is again.
Consistency.
Showing up.
My throat tightens, and I nod quickly like that solves the problem.
“Okay,” I say. “I’m going to shower.”
Mark salutes. “Godspeed.”
Alex adds, cheerful, “Try not to drown.”
