It had taken a few weeks of some hard-core, unflinching introspection to get there. But she’d always credit Elise for it. “Yes. I was a bitch to Brody, tested his loyalty. She put me in my place one day. But it was that she was also kind to me even as she told me she would fight for him. She knew why. It . . . Anyway, I left town a while. Got my shit together, and when I came back, it was with my head on straight. I didn’t want Brody that way. He’s my friend and I wanted him happy. It took a while for me to get on the right track with Elise, but we’re good now.”

“You’re probably one of the most well-adjusted adults I’ve ever known.”

She burst out laughing. “Well, you’re a lawyer, so that explains a lot.”

“It takes guts to be truly introspective. To look at your actions and take responsibility for them. You own what you are, though you see yourself as more of a villain than you are. There’s an emotional maturity there.” He shrugged.

“I grew up around people who never took responsibility for anything. Ever. I vowed to not be like that. Sometimes I succeed.”

“I think you should take a shower with me.” He waggled his brows at her. They’d come back to his place after their day trip so he could shower and change for dinner.

“Hm.”

“There you go with that sound again.”

“I’m beginning to think you want to agitate me. It’s like foreplay.”

“Everything about you is foreplay, Raven. Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately?”

“Hm.”

“So? Your clothes are here.” He’d convinced her to stop off at her place first to grab a change of clothes so they could leave directly from his place. But really it was that he wanted to watch her get ready.

“Let me look at your bathroom first.”

He pushed open the doors, gesturing her inside. When they’d been here before she’d used the one downstairs. Still a nice bathroom, but this one. Well, he was proud of this bathroom.

“Holy cow.” She turned in a slow circle once she’d gone inside.

“I like a long shower.”

“I should say so.”

His shower stall was quite large with benches on both sides and six showerheads. The bathtub was a modernized version of a clawfoot, only far larger and deeper.

“This is awesome. You can shower with me but only if you let me have some alone time with this place.”

“Should I be jealous of my bathroom?”

She turned to him. “Yes. You really should.”

She undressed and he leaned back against the counter to watch her fold each piece of clothing carefully. He was emotionally raw after their discussion on the way up. She’d revealed a side of herself that had brought all his protective instincts to the fore.

She’d been routinely neglected by the very people who should have protected her. That made him insanely angry. And he only knew a small bit of it. He understood that she had revealed a lot to him, but it was just the tip of the story. Just the outline.

He wanted to gather her up and hold her until he’d made it better. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t slay her dragons. Not for what she’d survived.

He’d gone and fallen in love with her. He hadn’t meant to. God knew she was complicated and it hadn’t been that long that they’d been together. But he knew what he knew. She’d come into his life for a reason and this was it. She was meant to be his.

She got into his shower and bent to fiddle with the settings. He quickly disrobed to join her, sliding his body against hers.

“Back off. I’m not done yet.”

He should have known she was a superhot-shower type. He’d thought himself a lover of hot showers until her settings had nearly scalded his top two layers of skin off.

“Jesus!”

“There are three shower heads right there. All for you.”

“I thought you weren’t supposed to use really hot water on a tattoo.”

“You aren’t. But I’m a rebel.” She leaned back, groaning as the water rushed over her and he simply watched as the water cascaded over her curves.

“I’ll get your hair.”

He looked at her shampoo. “I thought I scented coconut.”

“I get it in Hawaii. I love the way it smells.”

Clearly she didn’t skimp on her cosmetics.

He poured it into his palm and then braved the water to slowly lather her up. She stretched against him like a cat. He massaged her scalp and she rewarded him with a soft sigh that shot straight to his cock.

He started to soap her body up but she smirked, stealing her washcloth back. “I’ll never get out of here if I let you wash my body.”

“Who says I want you out of here?”

She rolled her eyes but kept her distance. “Let me do this and I’ll get your hair. I can stand on the bench thing to reach.”

“Fine. But I’m f**king you when we get back tonight.”

“You can drop me at my place before you come back here. Not that I’m ruling out f**king.”

“Why won’t you spend the night?”

“I don’t spend the night. We already had this discussion.” She soaped up and he watched, his mouth watering as she ran her slick hands and the washcloth all over her skin. It was then he noted the scars.

He took her hand, turning her wrist to see her inner arm more clearly. “You did this?”

She looked up into his face with no shame. “It’s been a long time. But the roses and thorns remind me that once upon a time I hurt myself to feel anything at all.”