Moon walked out of the bathroom with the towel still wrapped around her head. She had her deep crimson face to the ground and refused to meet Liam’s eyes.
“You have your lotions here,” Liam told her, drinking in her appearance.
She was so small and delicate that his shirt looked big on her, almost passing for a shirt gown but she kept twisting her legs.
“If you keep doing that, I’ll end up doing what’s in your head.” Liam joked, his wolf was locked away this time.
She glared at him, moving slowly to sit on the bed as if the shirt would fly away from her.
“You look good. It looks good on you.” He told her, looking at the scar struggling to peek out of the bottom of the shirt and her hands everywhere trying to protect her dignity.
“Hmm.” She nodded, painfully aware of his eyes on
