“You missed me,” she said, more statement than question.
Alexis flinched, then immediately relaxed. She knew that touch. alexis fawx shower surprise
She turned the shower handle without looking. The pipes groaned once, then surrendered a torrent of steam. Alexis stepped under the spray before it had even fully warmed, gasping as the cold shock turned into a slow, melting relief. She tilted her head back, letting the water hammer the knots out of her shoulders. “You missed me,” she said, more statement than question
All she wanted was water. Hot, scalding, skin-prickling water. She turned the shower handle without looking
“Welcome home,” he whispered.
Later—minutes or an hour, she couldn’t tell—they sat together on the shower floor, the water now lukewarm, her head resting against his shoulder. He had peeled off his ruined shirt and tossed it over the curtain rod.