Page 38

A deep voice rumbles above me, and I stumble back, my brain struggling to catch up.
And then it happens.
The towel slips.
It takes a beat—one painfully long beat—for my brain to process the situation. But by the time reality sinks in, I’m standing there. Completely. Butt. Fucking. Naked.
In front of none other than my boss.
“Oh my God!” I yelp, frantically grabbing for the towel as it falls in what feels like slow motion.
Nicholas’s jaw tightens, his gaze snapping upward to the ceiling as if it’s suddenly the most fascinating thing in the world. “Amara,” he says, his voice low and gravelly, “what the hell are you doing?”
“I—I didn’t think you’d be here!” I stammer, clutching the towel to my chest as if my life depends on it. My heart pounds so hard I can feel it in my throat, my face heating like I’ve been set on fire.
“Clearly,” he mutters, his tone dry.
His eyes flick downward for half a second—just a second—before snapping back to the ceiling.
I scramble to readjust the towel, fumbling so badly I’m surprised I don’t drop it again. My fingers have apparently forgotten how to function, and I’m left clutching the towel like it’s a shield against my growing humiliation.
This cannot be happening.
“Why are you here?” I blurt out.
His brow lifts, though his gaze remains firmly fixed above my head. “I live here.”
“Well, yeah, but—I thought you’d left for work by now.” I gesture wildly with one hand before realizing it’s better to keep both hands on the towel.
His eyes finally meet mine, dark and unreadable. “Can I ask why you’re wandering around… like this.”
“I wasn’t wandering,” I sigh. “The stupid shower isn’t working.”
“And your solution was to walk out here naked?”
“I didn’t know you were home.”
“Well, I am.” Silence stretches, and his eyes flick down, landing on the towel and then back to my face. “What do you mean the shower isn’t working?” he asks.
I lift my shoulder. “I mean it’s broken. Or cursed. Or both.”
His lips twitch, like he’s fighting a smile. “Cursed?”
“It’s not my fault,” I grumble, tightening the towel around me. “I twisted the handle twice, and nothing came out.”
“Must be a problem with the plumbing. That bathroom hasn’t been used in years,” he replies, dragging a hand through his hair.
“Maybe you should’ve mentioned that before I got naked,” I mutter under my breath.
His lips twitch. “What was that?”
“Nothing,” I say quickly.
He crosses his arms, leaning slightly against the doorframe. “You can use mine.”
I blink at him. “Yours?”
“Yes, Amara. My shower. Unless you’d prefer to stay like this all morning?”