(Kane’s POV)
Through the reflection on the French doors, I watched her curled on the bed. She looked so small, so angry—assuming I’d been rude. My lungs tightened. I moved my wheelchair toward the bathroom and turned on the shower. The warm water splashed over me, my wet clothes clinging to my skin, as I tried to wash away the racing thoughts in my heart.
(Mia’s POV)
I couldn’t say how long I waited, but then—the door swung open.
He burst in, soaking wet. My brain short‑circuited.
“I want to see it back!” I blurted, expecting… I didn’t know what. But obviously, not this.
Kane’s eyes flickered in shock. He paused, then said, “Then… I’ll just take them off.”
He plunged his hand toward his shirt buttons. My face felt like it was on fire. I stumbled backward, breath catching. “I… didn’t
