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Summary
“Those fumes must be getting to you,” she tugged on him, urging him to his feet. He stood over her so she had to look up, her mahogany eyes framed by thick lashes incredibly alluring in the lamplight. “I just said you needed a shower, didn’t I? That’s where we’re going.”
Perhaps it was because he was tired, he hadn’t quite understood what she had been implying at first. Now as he stood there, their hands clasped between them, her cheeks faintly pink as she worried her bottom lip between her teeth, no longer meeting his eyes, her free hand playing with the hem of her shirt—she wanted to shower. Together.