Page 33 of Omega's Fever

Heat crawls up my neck. I don’t know what to reply. “You’re a person. Not a... You deserve...”

“As far as you know, I’m a criminal.” He says it flat, matter-of-fact.

“You said you weren’t guilty.”

“I’m not.”

Simple. Direct. It’s either the truth or a very good lie, but I believe him. The problem is that I don’t know whether I believe him because he’s telling the truth or I believe him because we are a chemical match.

“Then we should talk about your defense.” I move toward my briefcase, desperate for familiar ground. “The witnesses they’ve lined up—”

“Tomorrow.”

“But—”

“You’re exhausted.” He pushes off from the counter, and I take an involuntary step back. “When’s the last time you slept? Really slept.”

I can’t remember. The suppressants make real sleep impossible.

“I’m fine.”

“Third time you’ve lied to me today.”

The doorbell saves me again. The clothes have arrived in a heap of bags. I sort through them on the coffee table, suddenly aware of how intimate this is. Choosing underwear for him. Guessing at sizes. The boxer briefs look too small now that I see them. I try not to think about that.

“Bathroom’s yours if you want to shower,” I manage.

He gathers an armful of clothes, then pauses at the hallway.

“Milo.”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

Then he’s gone, bathroom door clicking shut. A moment later, the shower starts.

I sink onto the couch and drop my head into my hands. He’s naked in my shower. Using my soap. My shampoo.

My phone buzzes reminding me about my prescription. I should think about going back down to the recommended two but Kellen is right here.

I swallow three.

The shower cuts off. I hold my breath, waiting. The bathroom door opens, releasing a cloud of steam that carries his scent, clean and warm and absolutely devastating.

He emerges in sweatpants and a t-shirt that pulls across his chest. Barefoot on my hardwood floors. Hair damp and finger-combed.

He looks soft. Touchable. Human.

“Better?” My voice cracks.

“Yeah.”

We stand there, ten feet apart. Only a few steps and I can have him.

“I should...” I gesture vaguely toward my bedroom.

“Milo.”