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I looked away because his panicked face was devastating. I tried to sit up, but his arms were reluctant to release me.

“I’m okay. I just got really hot.”

He helped me move across the floor, positioning me so I was sitting against one of the walls, and he threw open the shower door. He stormed through it, abandoning me there with absolutely no words. I stared out the glass, dumbfounded. How could he just leave?

He was back a moment later, naked, dripping wet, a water bottle in hand. Oh. He stepped back in and turned the water temperature down so it was just barely warm, then knelt beside me, unscrewing the top and offering the bottle. When I took it, he sat back from me and ran a hand through his dark hair. He looked horribly unsettled.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

He stared at me with disbelief. “I’m the one who did that to you. My body core temp got messed up from coming into air conditioning after the run. I had no idea the water was too hot.”

“I’m okay, really.” I took a sip of water, already feeling almost normal again. “You need to stop looking at me like I’m dying, it’s freaking me out.”

He was unconvinced. When I tried to stand, he put his hands on my shoulders and stopped me. I wrapped my hands around his wrists.

“I’m fine,” I said, “and we don’t have time to hang out on the floor of your shower.”

Appealing to his practical side worked, although he looked uneasy about it. I let him help me up and pretended not to notice how intently he studied me.

“Shit,” I grumbled. “Is that the only shampoo you have? I don’t want to smell like a guy.”

He barely said anything else to me during the shower, except to tell me to finish drinking all of the water in the water bottle. He had to get out of the shower a second time to dig under his sink for a half-empty container of hotel shampoo.

I tried to get him past what had happened, a simple mistake. But he couldn’t let it go.

I hurried getting dressed, trying to recover lost time from my fainting in the shower. I didn’t want him to dwell on it more than I suspected he already was, or for him to have to come up with some excuse for why he was late.

I could hear it now. “Sorry I’m late, Nick, on your special day, but I was busy fucking my girlfriend in the shower so hard I made her pass out.” I’m sure that would go over well.

He was dressed in jeans and a simple black V-neck shirt, sitting on the bed, his phone in hand, although he wasn’t paying attention to it. He was still sulking, and I wasn’t having it.

“I want to talk about the shower,” I said, sitting beside him on my knees on the bed.

“Which part? When I suffocated you, or when I gave you heatstroke?” His voice was filled with self-loathing.

“I want to talk about the man in there.”

“It won’t happen again.” It was hushed. Ashamed.

“Why not?” I put my hand on top of his on the bed. “Couldn’t you tell I loved it?”

He looked gorgeous, even when he was visibly confused and conflicted. “Evie.”

“I’m not saying I want it like that every time, but I love never knowing how you’re going to come at me,” I said. “You’re kind of an adventure, boss.”

He came up off of the bed and put his hands on my waist, drawing me to him and kissing me chastely on my forehead. “Are you ready to go?”

“As soon as you go back to treating me like you were before, asshole,” I said with a wide smile I hoped reached all the way to my eyes.

He took a breath. “All right.” His face softened and turned playful. “I want to take off your clothes and taste that pussy.”

My mouth fell open. “Do we have time?” I asked, hopeful.

“No, I’ll take a raincheck though.”

Having a steering wheel under my hands was foreign. It had been ages since I’d driven. Because I was nervous about traffic, and driving Logan’s car, and the whole meeting-his-entire-family thing, I left with plenty of time. For once in my life, I wasn’t late. I parked behind the church with an enormous white steeple and did a final check of my makeup. I hadn’t seen Logan since I dropped him at his brother’s hotel room this morning.

There were friendly smiles when I joined people heading into the church, but no faces I recognized until I spotted him. He was huddled up with the other groomsmen by the interior doors. Holy mother of god, he looked amazing. A black tux with a simple black bow tie, James Bond style. He must have sensed my arrival because his head turned toward me.


Tags: Nikki Sloane Blindfold Club Erotic