Page 19 of Star Claimed Omega
Her heart lurched as he crossed to the fridge and retrieved a bottle beaded with condensation.
He poured the aqua out with lazy precision, lifting the tumbler to his lips.
Hell.
He was a freakin’ tall, wet glass of cool water, one she wanted to knock back in one greedy gulp.
His eyes flicked to her mid-sip.
He caught her staring.
She flushed hard, almost dropping the rag, and angled her body away as if that action would erase the past three seconds.
‘¿Estás bien?You okay?’
She nodded, fast.
‘Naam. Great. Just fine. Amazing.’
His brow quirked.
‘The work’s not too difficult for you?’
She shook her head, still not quite facing him.
‘Nada. I deal with purging communal toilets and cleaning out effluent from cracked pipes. Washing dishes is a breeze in comparison.’
He smiled, a genuine, slow unfolding of his mouth.
‘I wasn’t always proficient at this. Cleaning, I mean. Growing up.’
She was babbling.
He leaned against the door frame again, his arms folded, waiting.
‘Nada?’
‘Nope,’ she blurted. ‘Two cousins, three aunts, my mother, and I in a two-bedroom apartment. One bathroom, one mirror. It was continuous chaos.’
He arched a brow, his expression encouraging her to continue.
Which she did, even as her brain screamed warnings.
‘We rotated chore duty, but most times it was just shouting, snacks, and someone weeping over a hair straightener.’
His eyes gleamed with muted amusement.
‘Where was that?’
She stiffened.
His tone had not changed, but there was a lean in his presence now. A quiet curiosity she did not welcome. It was too focused, too intentional.
She swallowed.
‘Nowhere you’d find interesting.’
His gaze shifted with a subtle, unmistakable flicker of calculation.
