I turned the water on as hot as I could stand it. Steam instantly filled the space, curling around the mirrors.
I stepped in, hissing as the scalding spray hit my battered skin. I braced my hands against the cool tile of the wall, ducking my head under the stream.
I stood there for a long time. Five minutes. Ten.
I tried to empty my mind, but the thoughts were intrusive, sharp little daggers finding the cracks in my armor. I thought about Cindy Donovan hugging me. I thought about Maverick critiquing my chin tuck. I thought about the envy that had clawed at my throat when I saw Cal with his sisters, that easy, unconditional love that I had been starving for my entire life.
My chest hitched. I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting it.
Don’t cry. Do not fucking cry.
I was a Reed. We didn’t cry over wins. We didn’t cry over bruises.
But my composure cracked. A sob tore its way out of my throat, harsh and jagged. I pressed my forehead against the tile, my shoulders shaking.
I didn’t hear the hotel door open. I didn’t even know what time it was. I had left the bathroom door open, not really caring, but also not expecting anyone to come back.
“Si?” Cal’s voice drifted through the suite.
I froze, panic spiking. I cleared my throat, trying to hide the waver.
“In the shower.”
His footsteps echoed on the marble, getting closer, then stopped abruptly at the threshold of the bathroom.
I turned my head slightly, looking through the steam fogged glass. Cal was standing in the doorway, but his back was turned to me. He was staring pointedly at the wall, refusing to invade my privacy.
“Didn’t think you’d be here,” Cal said, his voice bouncing softly off the tile. “Thought you were going out with your dad and uncle.”
I let out a shaky breath, swiping at my eyes, though the water masked the tears. “I didn’t go anywhere. And… you can come in here.”
Cal hesitated, then stepped fully into the bathroom. He kept his back to the glass shower wall, leaning against the vanity counter, arms crossed over his chest.
“You didn’t go spend time with your dad and uncle?” he asked, though the tone said he already knew the answer.
I shook my head, fighting a fresh wave of tears. “Nope. Came back here.”
Cal went silent. He didn’t need to see my face to know what was happening. He could hear it in the thick, wet raggedness of my breathing. He could feel the heaviness in the air.
“I would’ve asked you to come out with my family had I known,” Cal said quietly.
I managed a halfhearted, broken smile at his back. “It’s fine, Cal. Really.”
He saw right through it. He always did.
Cal turned his head slightly, catching my reflection in the mirror, but still not looking directly at the glass. A small, sad smirk touched his lips.
“If you wanted,” he started, his voice dropping an octave, “I think we could both be in that shower.”
He let the offer hang there. No pressure. Just an option. I looked at his broad back, at the way his shoulders were set. It wasn’t a look of lust or desire on myface; it was pure need. I was starving for affection, for a touch that didn’t demand anything from me.
“I wouldn’t mind,” I whispered honestly.
Cal nodded. He turned around then, moving with efficient speed. He stripped out of his black jeans and T shirt, kicking them aside.
He opened the glass door. Cool air rushed in, swirling with the steam. He stepped inside, naked, glorious, and unapologetic. He finally looked at me, and his eyes softened instantly. He saw the red rims of my eyes, the way my chest heaved.
He reached for me.
