“And what might that be, love?”
I aim for playful, but it lands hollow. My voice is too tight, too strained.
I’m too tense.
And I can’t lie. I’m not a liar.
Wasn’ta liar.
I was never a cheater either. But I can’t say that anymore, can I? Now I’m both. A liaranda cheater. And I’m so furious with myself.
Still, I keep my face calm. I’ll let this play out, see how bad the fallout is. I’ll do whatever damage control is needed. Whatever it takes. Because I’m not losing Alex. I love him too much to let this wreck us.
Maybe… maybe I should just tell him. Come clean.
We can work through this. I know we can.
He knows Gabriel and I are divorced. He wouldn’t blame me fortalkingto him. And that’s exactly what happened. In the beginning, anyway. He’d be furious with Gabriel, sure. But not with me.
Right?
Oh god—he can’t know about the sex. It’s impossible, really. But still…
His dimple flashes when I shift the sheet, revealing my naked body—one of those cute, involuntary smiles.
But just as quickly, he looks away.
“Follow me,” he says, already standing.
I curse under my breath, trying not to let that one rogue brain cell of paranoia take off.
He walks off, and I trail behind him, my chest tight with every step.
He leads us into the bathroom, flicks on the lights—but dims them immediately. Now we’re bathed in this soft, amberglow that makes everything feel intimate. Alex says nothing. The silence is deafening. Heavy.
And me?
I’m not the panicking type. Never have been. But I’m pretty fucking close right now.
He leaves me standing there—naked, exposed—in the middle of the bathroom while he calmly adjusts the temperature of the water.
“Are you coming?” he asks, casually, as he steps out of his boxers and into the shower.
Then he runs his fingers through his wet hair, slicking it back beneath the warm spray. Water glides down his shoulders, across the muscles of his back, down the inked puzzle pieces that drip with secrets.
And damn, he looks good.
Too good.
A wave of nausea hits me so fast, I have to grip the edge of the counter to stay upright.
Cautiously, I step in behind him, the hot water cascading over both of us. I wrap my arms around his waist, pulling him flush to me, my hands sliding over his skin.
“Elijaaah,” he breathes, turning my name into something melodic. He turns in my arms and leans against my chest. “Yessss…”
I close my eyes, letting the sound of his voice slide through the heat between us. Let the warmth of him sink into my skin.
Steam fills my lungs and—just for a moment—I shove the guilt aside.
