Danielle stepped into Christina’s ensuite bathroom, her body heavy with exhaustion now that the adrenaline had worn off. The confrontation with Emory still buzzed in her head, but the promise of a hot shower was more pressing.
She barely had the door closed before Seth was right there, hand braced against the frame.
“I should be in there with you,” he said, his voice low, serious.
Christina snorted. “Oh, absolutely not. Y’all are not about to f**k in my shower.”
Danielle’s face burned. “That is not—” She shot a horrified look at Seth. “That’s not happening. Not anytime soon.”
Something flickered across Seth’s face, just for a moment, before he schooled his expression. He shrugged. “Wasn’t what I meant.”
Christina raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment. Instead, Seth turned back to Dan
