Page 102 of Puck Me Back to Life

He stops. “What?”

“I'm sorry.” The words tumble out before I can stop them. “I shouldn't have come here.”

“Kai.”

“I'll just go home.” I wipe at my face angrily. “I'm not worth all this fuss. I'll just call a cab. Thanks for the help.”

I cross to the door.

He doesn't hesitate. Ash rushes across the room to stop me. I freeze.

His hands cup my face with startling gentleness.

Warm palms.

Rough fingertips.

He waits until I'm looking directly at him.

Then he speaks. “Don't ever say that shit to me again.”

There's no anger in his voice, only conviction. “You hear me?”

I can't answer. My throat has closed completely.

Ash's thumbs brush beneath my eyes. “You are allowed to have feelings.”

My vision blurs.

“You are allowed to have bad days.” Another tear escapes. “And you are absolutely worth helping.”

Something inside me cracks painfully. “I⁠—”

My voice disappears.

“I want you here. Let me help you.”

For a terrifying second, I almost believe him.

“Come with me.”

I follow him into the bathroom. Steam already curls softly from the shower he'd started while I sat in the living room. Ash sets the towels on the counter before turning toward me.

“Get in the shower.”

I hesitate.

He studies me for a moment. “You'll feel better.”

I nod. My hands feel strangely clumsy as I begin removing my clothes.

A few days ago, I had stood in front of this man with far less on and barely thought about it.

Now every movement feels different. More vulnerable. Less about desire. More about being seen.

For reasons I can't explain, that feels infinitely more intimate.

Ash watches me before averting his eyes, like he can tell I'm nervous. He quietly strips down as well, moving with the same calm confidence he seems to bring into every room. I watch as the clothes drop from him, revealing strong tanned muscle. There isn't any urgency in the way he moves, no expectation hanging in the air between us.