KYLE POV
She passed out.
Right then and there, in the damn shower.
One second she was coming so hard her whole body bowed like a drawn bowstring—then the next, her eyes rolled back and she went limp.
“Sh*t,” I muttered, stepping forward, but Keegan was faster.
Of course he was.
He caught her just before she could slump backward and hit the wall, his big arms wrapping around her with the ease of a soldier trained for every kind of fall.
“I’ve got her,” Keegan said quietly, cradling her like she weighed nothing.
“She dead?” Kingsley asked, peeking over his shoulder, soaked locks plastered to his forehead and a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.
“She’s breathing,” Kendrick confirmed, already brushing wet strands of hair away from her face like the quiet protector he always was.
