Heart squeezing, I stretched up and kissed him. What was supposed to be a thank-you turned into something a little more, and it was several moments before Zayne rolled off me. I got a little hung up in staring at the markings on his back, but finally got my body moving.

I hurried to the bathroom, my heart beating way too fast as I brushed my teeth and cranked on the water. There was a dizzying rush of anticipation and nervousness, and an acute sense of surreality as I stripped off my clothes, toeing them into a corner and then picking them up, actually making use of the empty laundry hamper. Quickly grabbing the other small piles of clothing scattered about, I tossed them where they belonged and, before I started giggling like I’d been afraid of or passed out, I stepped under the hot spray.

My senses were so hyperaware that my hands were trembling as I turned slowly. It wasn’t that I was scared. It wasn’t like I wasn’t ready. It wasn’t anything like that. It was just that everything felt like...like it was a first. The showering together thing definitely was, but even though we’d experienced all manner of kisses and so much more, everything felt different and new now.

Water plastered my hair to my back and streamed over my body as I looked down at the numerous fading cuts and bruises. My body was a patchwork of old scars and new ones, and I knew that each one of those flaws was exactly as Zayne had said earlier—a badge of strength. I wasn’t embarrassed by them. I was proud.