Page 13 of Captured Immune

“How about you take off all your wet clothes first? I’ll wash them for you.”

He complies, first with his jacket, then his shirt. As soon as I see his abs, I realize this is a mistake. I can’t see him shirtless. It’s my kryptonite.

From his pockets, he drags out his wallet and phone, then drops them onto my coffee table with two light thuds. Then he yanks his jeans and socks off. I grab all his damp clothes and head to the front door to hang his jacket up to dry. When I turn around, he’s already got his boxers down.

I shut my eyes and throw my hands up. “Stop!”

“Huh?” A wave of shock rushes through my head.

“Put your boxers back on.”

“But you told me to take off all my wet clothes.”

“The boxers can stay.” I wait a moment before I reopen my eyes.

Trey stands magnificently before me, wearing only a pair of plaid boxers. He gestures toward my couch. “Can I sit now?”

“Sure.” With his clothes in hand, I head down the hall.

The world is cruel. Countless times, I’ve pictured him at my door with flowers, telling me he’s come to his senses. He’d say things like “I realized you never would have cheated on me” and “I’m ready to be a father.” We’d have the most amazing makeup sex and everything would be okay. Instead, the world drops him off here drunk, looking like a model for men’s underwear. What am I supposed to do with this?

In the hallway, I open the pair of closet doors where my washer and dryer hide. I throw Trey’s clothes into the washer with some detergent, then start the machine.

Footsteps thump against my carpet as a cloud of gloominess approaches me. I pretend not to notice him as he wraps his arms around me from behind and breathes a shiver down my neck. I have to grip the washing machine just to keep my knees from buckling.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says with liquor breath.

Instead of melting into him the way I always have, I remain strong and keep still. I need to know what his intentions are before I allow myself to give in to him. The moment I do is the moment I give him permission to break me again.

After a few deep breaths, I gather enough willpower to pry myself out of his grasp, and then I stride into the bathroom. Trey and his cloud of gloominess follow me there.

I open the cabinet above the sink. “How do you feel?”

“Sad.” His gaze drops to the floor as he lingers in the doorway. “All the time.”

“I meant, how does your head feel?”

“Oh. Um, it’s all right. I’ll probably be hungover in the morning though.”

I shake out two pills from a bottle of ibuprofen and hold them out.

He pushes my hand away. “That’s not gonna do anything for me.”

I roll my eyes. He sounds like Javina whenever she’s had too much to drink. She thinks water doesn’t help either, but it totally does. “Just take them.”

“I’m serious, babe. Ordinary human pills don’t work on me.”

Ordinary human pills?What pillsdowork on him then? Superhuman pills? Maybe in the alternate universe he’s from, having superpowers is normal. Is that why I can feel his emotions right now?Oh my god.Am I carrying a superhuman baby inside me that can sense feelings?

Pushing down the panic in my chest, I stash the pill bottle back into my cabinet. I’ve still got the two tablets in my palm, though, just in case he wants to take them later.

With gentle hands, Trey pushes the hair from my face and cups my cheeks. My heart thrashes as he presses his lips to my forehead and gives me a light kiss. “I need you, baby.”

Oh, how four little words can stir up so much eagerness inside me. The irrational part of me is screaming,Yes, please!The rational part of me wants to smack him for trying to claim to be infertile. Maybe in his alternate universe, he is infertile. But in this universe, he’s definitely able to make babies.

“Trey, can you please explain why you’re here?”

Sighing, he lets me go and steps back. As if he didn’t hear my question, he asks, “Can I dry my hair a little? It keeps dripping down my face.”

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