I sucked in a breath through my teeth, hissing at the contact.

“Hold still.”

I clenched my jaw and did as she said.

“I hate you for this,” she muttered, and I didn’t know if she meant the bruises or the fact that I let her see them.

I exhaled shakily, my fingers squeezing hers. “I’m sorry.”

She didn’t say it was okay.

But she leaned closer and pressed her cheek against my shoulder. “I missed you,” she whispered, the words barely audible. “I hate you, and I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, B.”

“Reese kissed me.”

The world tilted. Something ugly curled in my stomach, something sharp and burning, something that made my fingers clench against the side of the tub.

I kept my expression blank, my voice flat. “Yeah?”

She dragged the washcloth down my chest. “Yeah.”

I blinked, trying to ignore the way my pulse was pounding in my ears. “Did you like it?”

She hummed like she was considering it. “It was…fine?”

I swallowed against the burning in my throat.

Beverly rinsed the washcloth, wringing it out over the water, and for a second, the only sound was the steady drip-drip-drip of it falling between us. Then, quieter, “I kept thinking about you.”

Jesus Christ.

The air felt too thick.

The space between us too thin.

Her fingers brushed against my ribs, slow and careful, the warmth of the washcloth nothing compared to the heat of her touch. “I kept thinking about how it wasn’t you,” she murmured.

A shiver crawled down my spine. I wasn’t sure if it was from the heat, from her voice, or from the way she was looking at me.

Her voice softened to a whisper, barely more than a breath. “Do you ever think about me, Blake?”

A slow, uneven breath escaped me. My body answered before my mind could catch up, before logic could stop me.

I gripped her wrist, my fingers curling around her pulse, feeling the way it jumped beneath my touch.

Beverly didn’t pull away. Didn’t say a word when I dragged her forward, pulling her into my lap. Water sloshed over the edge of the tub, soaking the tile floor, but I didn’t care.

All I cared about was her knees bracketing my hips.

Her hands settling on my shoulders.

The way she was breathing too fast.

The way she wasn’t breathing at all.

I swallowed hard, my fingers flexing against her waist.

I wanted to kiss her.

I wanted to kiss her until she couldn’t think straight.