"And what's that?" I ask, suddenly needing to know.
Reid steps closer, his expression turning serious. "Strength. Courage. A heart that's been broken but still works." His hand comes up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "And something else… something that calls to me in a way I can't explain."
The raw honesty in his voice makes my chest tight. No one has ever looked at me the way Reid does, like I'm precious, valuable, worth protecting.
"The bath's ready," he says, his voice rougher than before. "Take as long as you need. I'll be in the kitchen making dinner."
He turns to leave, but I catch his wrist. "Reid."
He pauses, looking back at me with a question in his eyes.
Words fail me. Instead, I rise on tiptoe and press my lips to his, a whisper of a kiss that still manages to convey everything I can't say.
His expression softens, and he kisses me back gently before breaking away. "Don't fall asleep in there," he warns playfully, his voice husky. "Dinner won't take long."
After he leaves, I sink into the bath with a contented sigh. The warm water envelops me, scented bubbles creating a fragrant cloud around my body. The events of the past two days catch up with me all at once—the confrontation with Officer Jenkins, the club meeting, the revelations about Reid, the shopping with his mother. My muscles ache with tension I didn't realize I was carrying.
I lean back, resting my head against the tub. Just for a moment, I tell myself, closing my eyes. Just a minute to gather my thoughts.
Reid
In the kitchen, I chop vegetables with practiced ease, occasionally glancing at the clock. The pasta water boils, and I add salt before dropping in the fettuccine. I stir the sauce, taste-testing with a small spoon. Everything is almost ready.
"Lily?" I call out, wiping my hands on a kitchen towel. "Food's almost done."
No response comes from the bathroom.
I wait a moment, then call again, louder this time. "Lily? You okay in there?"
The silence that answers me sends a spike of concern through my chest. I turn down the burners and stride quickly to the bathroom door, knocking firmly.
"Lily?"
When no answer comes, worry propels me to open the door without further hesitation. My breath catches in my throat at the sight before me.
Lily lies back in the tub, her head resting against the back, eyes closed in peaceful slumber. The bubbles have mostly dissolved, leaving just enough to preserve her modesty while revealing the graceful curves of her shoulders, the elegant line of her collarbones, the swell of her breasts just visible beneath a thin layer of foam.
My knees nearly buckle at the vision of trust and vulnerability she presents. Her dark brown hair is piled messily atop her head, a few damp tendrils clinging to her neck. Her face, relaxed in sleep, looks younger, the constant tension erased from her features.
"Christ," I whisper, transfixed by her beauty.
For a moment I stand there, torn between the desire to watch her and the knowledge that I should give her privacy. Then she stirs slightly, the water rippling around her, and I decide.
Moving quietly to her side, I kneel beside the tub and gently touch her shoulder. "Lily," I say softly, not wanting to startle her. "Sweetheart, wake up."
Her eyelashes flutter against her cheeks before her eyes open slowly, confusion giving way to recognition as she focuses on my face.
"Reid?" Her voice is husky with sleep. She blinks, then seems to realize her situation. A blush spreads across her cheeks and down her neck as she suddenly becomes aware of her nakedness beneath the water.
"I fell asleep," she murmurs, embarrassment coloring her voice.
"You did." I smile at her. "The water's getting cold."
She shifts slightly, uncertain what to do next.
"Let me help," I offer, reaching for the washcloth draped over the side of the tub. "Let me take care of you."
Our eyes lock, and something passes between us—a question, an answer, a quiet understanding.