Page 151 of Micah

Who needs three showerheads?

Apparently Micah.

And me.

I laugh.

“Of course you built yourself the nicest shower in Barren County.”

I make a mental note to try the tub later.

If...

My smile falters.

If I'm still here.

Is that weird?

Should I even be thinking like that already?

We've shared exactly one night.

Granted, it was one hell of a night.

Still.

Slow down, Sloane.

I climb into the shower anyway. Warm water rains down from every direction, washing away the lingering smell of sleep and sex.

I reach for his body wash.

Citrus.

Fresh soap.

That unmistakable scent that's become permanently associated with one very quiet cowboy.

I laugh softly as I work it into my skin.

Now I smell like him.

For some reason, that makes me ridiculously happy.

By the time I step out, I feel lighter.

Cleaner.

Like maybe the nightmare from yesterday is finally beginning to loosen its grip.

Wrapped in one of Micah's plush robes with a towel around my hair, I wander back into the bedroom.

The bed is still unmade.

I smile.

He probably would've left it exactly like this.