“Walk to me instead.”
The words were spoken low and steady, yet they struck Olivia with the force of an actual blow, shattering the fragile peace she had found in the shower. Every instinct she possessed, the pride, the shame, the inherent need for self-preservation, screamed at her to snatch up clothes, to retreat, to hide the raw, exposed nerves he had witnessed hours before.
Do not get dressed. Walk here.
He didn’t move from the lounge chair, but the space around him seemed to contract, centering all the gravity of the room onto his motionless form. He was the center of a silent storm, and she, wrapped in nothing but a towel and the lingering scent of soap, was caught in the eye.
“I… I don’t understand,” she whispered, her voice tight, barely audible. She gripped the heavy towel, fe
