When the Morning Softens (continued)
Steam curled around the bathroom like a secret.
Rhea had just pulled her shirt over her head when the door creaked open behind her. She startled, clutching the fabric to her chest, whirling around just as Lucian strolled in like he belonged there—which, apparently, he now did.
“Lucian!” she hissed, cheeks flaming. “The door doesn’t lock!”
He blinked. “I noticed,” he said, entirely too calm for someone who had just barged in on a woman mid-strip.
“What are you doing?”
He smiled, already reaching for the faucet. “Joining you. You used up all the hot water last night with your dramatics.”
“My what now?”
He turned the shower on, stepped under it fully clothed for a second just to shut her up, then turned to her, now soaked. “Come here.”
“I—I was go
