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It was a disaster.

And why the hell wasn’t I moving?

My fingers tightened around the drill as my brain tried to force the issue.

Move.

Now.

Get the fuck out of there!

Then the sound from the shower shifted. The groans grew deeper, rougher, more gritty and strained. Rafe’s head fell back, and the low, guttural sounds coming from him vibrated through my body in a way that made no sense.

Oh God.

He’s going to come.

I needed to leave.

Right now!

I took a step back—

And then…

A groan roared from him, loud enough to echo through the room.

My body went slack, and the drill case slipped from my hands.

CLANK!

The sound rang out against the tile, deafening in the small space.

My heart stopped, and then slammed back to life so hard, I thought I might be sick right there.

Oh my God.

I spun around and bolted for the door, nearly tripping over my own feet as I tore ass into the hallway. Any thought of being quiet was long gone. I slammed the door shut behind me and took off running. My chest heaved as I raced up the stairs and back into my apartment, yanking the door closed and pressing my whole body against it like some sort of human barricade.

My lungs burned as I struggled to catch my breath.

What the hell just happened?

I pushed away from the door and started pacing, dragging my hands through my hair as sweat poured down my back. Not cute, ladylike, glowy perspiration—more like I’d just gone one-on-one with a pro athlete and lost badly.

What if he saw me?

My stomach knotted.

He had to have seen me.

Certainly heard me.

The drill!

That stupid freaking drill.

No. No, no, no.