A curiosity that has his jaw tightening slightly.
The subtle curl of his fingers, as though to dig his nails into the meat of his palm.
I wash, feeling the gradual fade of the warmth, knowing that the cold water is coming—and that he’s watching me.
I must be out of my fucking mind, but I think… I think he’s—
No.
I shove that thought down.
Turning to face the pipes, I clench my eyes and let the water pour down my face.
But the cold of the shower room is rushing me.
I feel it creeping up my back like frost.
A sigh puffs out my cheeks.
Time’s up, I guess.
I reach for the tap—
But I freeze the moment a breath of icy air brushes the crown of my head.
My lashes flutter, a stunned blink.
Slowly, I turn my chin to my shoulder.
Samick…
Samick isn’t on the bench anymore.
I turn more, my spine twisting with my uneasy steps—until I’m staring at inky darkness.
Leathers.
His chest, muscular and strong, sheathed in glistening black leather.
I blink, then lift my stare up the pallor of his neck, then the smooth cut of his jaw, the cherry blossom pink of his lips—
And the breath is shoved out of me as I meet those dark jade eyes, like shadows are moving through them.
Samick towers over me.
My feet pad on the soaked towels as I turn all the way to face him. An ache springs in my neck as I look up at his face.
My heart lurches this time to my throat—and sticks there.
Strokes of shadows slash over his cheeks. The mint of his breath brushes over my forehead, and I can taste it.
I slide a small step back.
And the tap presses into my spine, stopping me.
Samick’s head slowly tilts to the side. Strands of light hair brush over his brow.
He just stares at me, lashes low over those strangely dark green eyes, shower rain falling between us.
