Chapter 81: Under Running Water 2
FIA
Goosebumps spread across his chest and down his abdon. His muscles went rigid under my touch. Like he was holding himself very still.
I looked up.
He was staring at .
His eyes were dark. Darker than I had ever seen them. His jaw was tight. A muscle jumped in his cheek.
I withdrew my hand.
"Sorry."
The word ca out barely above a whisper.
"It is fine."
His voice was restrained. Too restrained. Like he was forcing the words through clenched teeth.
We stood there.
Neither of us moved. Neither of us spoke. The water kept running. Steam filled the shower. My heart hamred against my ribs so hard I was sure he could hear it.
One minute passed.
Maybe two.
Ti felt strange. Like it was stretched thin and yet still heavy at the sa ti.
"You look clean," Cian said finally as he sprayed my lathered hands before he lowered the shower head.
The water stopped.
"I should get you a towel."
He stepped out before I could respond. Water dripped from his body onto the tile. I watched him cross to the cabinet and pull out a large white towel.
He ca back.
The towel wrapped around . It was soft and even better, it was warm. He tucked it carefully around my shoulders and made sure it covered
completely.
"You still have lather on you," I said.
He looked down at himself. At the soap still clinging to his chest and arms.
"Right. Right."
He ran a hand through his wet hair.
"I will help you out first. Then get clean."
I nodded.
He guided
out of the shower. His hand was firm on my elbow. Steadying
as I stepped over the threshold and onto the bathroom rug.
"Can you stand?" he asked.
"Yes."
My legs felt more solid now. Less likely to give out without warning.
"Good."
He released my elbow and stepped back into the shower. The glass door closed between us.
I stood there.
Dripping onto the rug. Clutching the towel around myself. Staring at nothing in particular.
What was that?
The question echoed in my head. Over and over. What was that tension in the shower? That mont when our eyes t and everything felt heavy and charged? That second when I touched his chest and felt him react?
What was it?
The water turned back on behind the glass. I could see Cian’s silhouette through the frosted panels. Could see him moving. Rinsing off the soap. Running his hands through his hair.
I needed to leave.
Standing here watching him shower was not helping anything. Was not making this situation any less weird or complicated or confusing.
I turned toward the door.
My reflection caught my eye in the mirror above the sink.
I looked terrible.
My hair was plastered to my head. My face was pale. Dark circles shadowed my eyes. The bruises on my cheek and jaw stood out like ink stains against my skin.
But I was clean.
No more blood. No more dirt. Just . Battered and exhausted and wrapped in an oversized towel in Cian’s bathroom.
The shower turned off.
I heard the door open. Heard his footsteps on the tile.
I did not turn around.
"You should rest," he said.
His voice ca from sowhere behind . Close but not too close.
"You can stay here. I will sleep sowhere else tonight, if I can. I have a lot of work to do."
I finally turned to look at him.
He had wrapped a towel around his waist. Water still dripped from his hair and ran down his chest in thin rivulets. He was not looking at . His eyes were focused on sothing past my shoulder.
"Thank you," I said.
The words felt inadequate. But they were all I had.
He nodded once.
"Get so sleep."
Then he was moving past . Out of the bathroom. Into the bedroom beyond.
I followed slowly.
My legs cooperated better now. The dizziness had faded, enough for
to take a few careful steps into the bedroom.
Cian was already moving toward the wardrobe. He opened it without a word and pulled out a soft looking shirt and a pair of loose cotton shorts. He placed them at the foot of the bed, his movents quiet, almost cautious.
"These should fit well enough," he said.
His voice was steady, but sothing in it tugged at . Not pity. Sothing gentler.
I walked to the bed and picked up the clothes. The shirt slled like clean fabric and a hint of cedar. I slipped it over my head. The hem brushed my thighs. The shorts were loose around my waist, but they stayed up. They felt warm, warr than the towel that clung to my skin.
The sheets were still tangled from my nightmare. I straightened them as best I could and climbed in.
The mattress was soft. The pillows were perfect. Everything slled like Cian. That scent that I was starting to associate with safety even though I did not want to.
Then he returned to the wardrobe and grabbed another set of clothes and pulled them on.
As quickly as he put them on, he moved toward the door.
I was turned to the other side of the bed at that ti but I just couldn’t help myself when the thought nudged itself at the back of my mind.
"Cian," I said.
He stopped.
I could not see him from where I was lying. But I heard him turn back toward the bed.
"Yes?"
"Are you alright?"
The question surprised
as much as it probably surprised him. But once it was out I could not take it back.
Silence stretched between us.
"I am fine," he said finally.
His voice was neutral. Carefully neutral. Like he was putting effort into keeping it that way.
"Get so rest, Fia."
The door opened. Then closed.
I was alone.
I lay there in the dim lights. Staring at the wall and trying not to think about what had just happened. Trying not to replay every mont of that shower in my head.
Trying not to wonder what it ant.
If it ant anything at all. Because what Bo had said before Cian took her life was also lodged in my head.
"Now that Luna Morrigan does not have the rot, and Alpha Cian does not have to fear that the Goddess will punish him for defying her hand in your marriage... do you think he will stay with you?"
I hadn’t really understood why those words cut so deep but I was starting to realize it now.
I liked Cian. I wasn’t even sure when that happened. But it was clear as day to
now that I did.
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