ISLA
The water shut off, and a moment later Gideon emerged, a towel wrapped around his waist, his hair still damp, the blood washed away.
I could see bruises forming on his ribs, scratches across his chest, but he moved like they didn’t hurt.
“Better?” he asked.
I nodded, unable to speak.
He pulled on sleep pants but left his chest bare, then moved to the other side of the bed. “Which side do you want?”
“I don’t– I haven’t– ” I stopped, flushing. “I’ve never actually shared a bed with anyone before.”
His eyebrows rose. “Never?”
“Jaxon and I, uh, we never–” I looked away, embarrassed. “We were waiting. Or I was waiting. For marriage or mating or… I don’t know. It doesn’t matter now.”
“It matters,” Gideon said quietly. “Everything about you matters.”
He climbed into bed, staying o
