Page 130 of Lose You Twice

“Yes.”

“Then you should go.”

He says it like an order, or maybe like a plea.

I should listen, but something in the tone of his voice makes sure I don’t.

“Kai,” I say carefully. “Are you okay?”

A pause, then a quiet, humorless laugh.

“No.”

My stomach drops.

“Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“Then what⁠—”

“Wren.”

One word. A warning.

I take one step forward before I can think better of it.

Steam thickens around the entrance to the showers. The air is warmer here, damp against my cheeks, my throat, the bare strip of skin at my wrist. The water keeps running, hitting tile in a steady rhythm.

I see him through the steam.

Kai stands under the spray with one forearm braced against the tile, head bowed, wet hair falling forward. His other hand is low, tense, and the second he sees me, he goes completely still, the water falling against his chiseled back before continuing down to the floor.

My breath stops.

Oh.

Oh.

The realization hits so hard I almost drop my phone.

He wasn’t injured; he definitely wasn’t just showering.

He was alone in here after a game, after a week of looking at me like he wanted to come apart, and he was⁠—

“Oh my God.” I turn so fast my wet sneaker squeaks against the tile. “I saw nothing. I’m leaving.”

“You don’t have to run, Freckles.”

The nickname snaps through me, old and dangerously reminiscent of easier times. “I’m not running.”

“You’re facing the wrong way for someone who’s not running.”

“You’re naked.”

His voice lowers. “Nothing you haven’t seen before.”

My face goes hot enough to rival the steam. I close my eyes.