Lana’s POV
The water was still warm, clinging to my skin as I finally forced myself out of the tub. Drops slid down my legs, dampening the marble floor, and I snatched a towel from the rack, wrapping it tightly around myself. My cheeks burned at the memory of what I’d asked Damon for.
Underwear.
Really, Lana?
I padded across the bathroom, bare feet whispering against the tiles, and cracked the door open just a fraction.
Damon stood there like he had been waiting all along, leaning against the wall with his phone pressed casually to his ear. In his other hand, he held out a neatly folded bundle of clothes. My eyes flicked from the garments to his face, only to find him grinning with that wicked curl of his lips.
“You…” My brows knitted. “Why are you smiling like that?”
He lowered
