His body is lean like a swimmer, but his shoulders are broad, and each muscle is well defined, and I itch to trace all the dips and planes of his body. I want to see what makes him tick if he would melt beneath my hands like I melt for him.
“Stop staring at me and get your ass in here,” he growls, startling me.
I’ve been caught watching him.
I can feel my cheeks heating already. It’s so stupid to be embarrassed over something mundane like watching him shower when I let him wreck my insides hours ago.
Still, I walk up to the glass shower door and pull it open. I step inside, suddenly becoming envious of the size of his shower. I guess when your dad helps fund the place, you get a shower this big.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks, his voice thick.
“Just that I’m envious of your shower. It’s huge.”
He whirls around and grabs me by the hips, moving me beneath the water. The hot spray hits my back, and I let out a sigh.
“That’s not the only thing that’s huge.” He wiggles his dark brows at me, and I can’t help but smile.
“Believe me, I know. I’m feeling it this morning.”
A look I’ve never seen before flashes across his face, but before I can pinpoint what it is, it’s gone. His usual scowl replaces it a second later.
“How do you feel this morning?” He turns away from me to grab the soap.
I let the water cascade down my back before I tip my head back and start wetting my hair. “Sore, but not in a bad way.”
“Good. I was worried when you blacked out, but it turns out you were made for me.”
I know he doesn’t mean that in the sense of me meaning anything to him but hearing him say that has my brain thinking otherwise.
I’m thankful he doesn’t ask me anything else and instead squirts some soap on a loaf and starts washing me from head to toe. He takes his time, paying extra attention to my breasts and the valley between my legs.
Afterward, he lets me rinse, then grabs the shampoo, squirts some into his hand, and starts massaging my scalp. His touch is gentle, caring, and I won’t lie. I’m affected by it. Every time he touches me, I’m reminded that beneath the hard exterior that he projects to everyone is a tender soul wanting to be unleashed.
He moves me back under the water and rinses the soap from my hair. Our gazes collide, and the air in my lungs becomes heavy. It hits me then with enough force to knock me off my feet.
I’m falling for him, or maybe I already have, and it’s simply taken me this long to realize it.
The fear of what that means turns my blood to ice, and I take a sudden step back. I need space, air. I need to stop this before it becomes something that I can’t control.
I turn and reach for the shower door. I’m vulnerable, all my protective layers are peeled back, and I don’t like it.
“What’s wrong?” Quinton asks, sensing the change in my demeanor.
I look him dead in the eyes because I know deep down even if he doesn’t want to feel it or acknowledge it, we’re moving into a territory that neither of us will come back from. One of us has to be strong enough to end it before it’s too late.
“We shouldn’t be doing this.” I gesture to the space between us.
“Showering?” He laughs. “Normal people shower, Aspen.”
I glare at him. “That’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it. We both know it. There’s no point in ignoring it. Whatever this is between us, it’s growing like a cancer, and if we don’t stop it…”
“What?” he asks, his voice low, so low I almost can’t hear it over the rush of water from the shower. “What will happen?”
“It’ll kill us both,” I say.
I walk out of the shower, water clinging to my hair and skin. The organ in my chest thuds loudly, but I don’t feel it. I can’t believe it took me until now to realize I’m falling in love with my enemy.
I’m falling in love with the villain in my story, and I don’t know if I’m strong enough to let him go. I dry off quickly and tug on the clothes I wore last night. I need to get out of here before Quinton walks out and tries to stop me. The water in the bathroom turns off, and I rush out of the bedroom. I catch a brief glimpse of Ren sitting at the breakfast nook. He doesn’t say anything as I head out the door, and I’m thankful for it.
I can’t keep doing this with Quinton.
He could never love me, and I could never love him.