Page 94 of Lethal Attraction

The words settle somewhere deep in my chest.

For a moment, neither of us moves. The water rushes around us, filling the silence while steam curls through the air. Reed’s gaze stays fixed on mine, steady and warm, without a trace of pity.

“Just let me,” he adds softly.

I swallow and give a reluctant nod.

A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. He lifts the loofah and gently drags it across my shoulder. The motion is careful, almost reverent. I should feel awkward. Embarrassed, even. Instead, I find myself relaxing under his touch.

“You’re staring,” I murmur.

“That obvious?” He asks with a hint of amusement.

“A little.”

His chuckle vibrates against my back. “Can you blame me?”

Heat blooms in my cheeks, and it has nothing to do with the water. Reed continues washing away the grime and exhaustion that seem to have seeped into my skin over the last few days. Neither of us speaks much. The quiet feels comfortable, the kind that only exists when two people no longer need to fill every second with words.

When he finishes, he sets the loofah aside and slides his arms around my waist again. “There,” he says. “Better?”

I lean back against his chest, surprised by how easily the answer comes. “Yeah.”

His chin rests lightly on top of my head. “Good.”

For the first time in what feels like forever, I let myself simply stand there and enjoy the warmth—of the water, of his embrace, and of the strange sense of safety that comes with knowing I don’t have to carry everything alone.

Reed turns his face into my hair, inhaling deeply like my scent is a drug, and it makes me giggle as he smooshes me closer to him, trapping me in his arms.

“Fuck, is this what it feels like to be addicted to something?” he asks playfully.

I snort. “Depends. Are you about to start pawning your belongings to buy cherry-scented soap?”

“I just might. I’m sure there’s something around here that would go for big money.”

My head tilts back as my laugh reverberates through the bathroom. “This is my house! You can’t pawn my belongings.”

“Oh, wow,” he says in awe, “my symptoms are getting worse in real time. That sound drives me crazy.”

I turn to look at him over my shoulder. “My laugh?”

He smirks. “It’s terminal at this point. If I don’t hear it, at least once a day, I may die.”

“You’re ridiculous,” I giggle with red cheeks.

“No, seriously,” he shakes his head solemnly, “first it was your smell, then your voice, then your laugh, and now…it’s just you.”

My face falls a fraction as the sincerity in his tone throws me off. He isn’t joking anymore.

He brushes a strand of hair behind my ear as he stares at me softly. “And I don’t want to be cured, Thalia.”

My eyes shift between his as clarity washes over me. A feeling I’ve never known grips me so tightly that it’s overwhelming as I lean against him and place a hand on his chest, right where his heart beats and my initials are carved into his skin. “I don’t think I want to be cured either…”

He wraps his arms around me, resting his chin on top of my head. “Then let’s be sick together.”

We finish our shower, the whole time I keep my chin tucked so Reed can’t see the deep blush that’s taken over my face. He dries me off with a towel, taking great care to show how he feels in the process before taking my hand and leading me back out to my bedroom.

We don’t even bother with clothes as I retrieve the collar from my nightstand. I hold it up to him, smirking as his eyes widen at the metal prongs on the inside of it.