Fully scrubbed, I squeegeed the bulk of the bubbles down the ends of her hair. “But the tattoos you like?”
She bit down on her lip to keep the smile from blooming. “This isn’t a joke, but yes, I like the tattoos a hell of a lot more.” She tilted her head back under the water, rinsing out the shampoo.
My mood sobered, the reminder of last night snuffing out the lingering orgasm high.
She dropped her head down, staring into my eyes, and noticed the sudden shift in my expression, an unspoken question forming in her gaze.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, casting my eyes down to her nose. I didn’t want to see her reaction. “I shouldn’t have left you like that.” I felt her finger trace the edge of my lips, drawing my focus up. “I won’t do it again.”
She angled her head to the side. “You were right. It turns out I needed you more than the hot water or the bathroom.” A soft smile played on her mouth. We always did this, deflecting, and it was her way of telling me that she understood.
Reaching for the hand hanging at her side, I interwove our fingers. “I could have told you that.”
CHAPTERELEVEN
MADS
The shower didn’t take much time after that. Not with two sets of hands doing the work. Micah soaped up my body, which he might have enjoyed too much, while I conditioned my hair. I sat on his bed, fully dressed while I dried my hair with one of his old T-shirts.
“You know about the photos,” I said, starting the overdue conversation.
He nodded, tugging on a light blue shirt that matched his eyes. “The ones on his phone. Yeah, the guys filled me in last night.” The tone of his voice roughened a fraction, enough that I noticed, but someone who didn’t know Micah wouldn’t have. Sterling rubbed him the wrong way, that became very clear.
Bunching the shirt against the ends of my hair, I dropped the damp material into my lap. “I didn’t know he had them. And honestly, I’m convinced he photoshopped them.” The more I thought about it throughout the night, the surer I became, because frankly, the alternative scared the living fuck out of me. Imagining him sneaking into my room and snapping pictures of me while I slept just creeped me the hell out. He wouldn’t have done that. Right? Who in their right mind would?
I needed another look. I’d been so distraught by the images that I hadn’t paid attention to details like the room, the bed, the background. Those could easily prove they’d been altered.
But if they were ofmy room, the idea of him being there without my knowledge, watching me, invading my privacy, and taking advantage of me, felt almost like a form of assault. Definitely stalking.
Suggesting that I needed to see the photos again on Sterling’s phone to Micah would not go over well. He would tell me it was bad. Dangerous. And maybe he had a point, but still, even if they weren’t real, I had to get rid of them. It was the only way I could stop Sterling from exposing them. Once something got uploaded to the Internet, it never went away. The idea of my parents accidentally seeing or being sent those photos of me?
I would die.
“He wants something from you, but he wouldn’t tell me what,” I admitted. “I got the impression that he means to hurt you, Micah.” I’d replayed the conversations I’d had with Sterling a thousand times in my head, looking for details I might have missed. How the fuck did a one-night stand turn into blackmail? Two years later?
It didn’t make sense.
Micah flashed me a roguish grin. “Are you worried for me, Mads?”
Tossing the shirt onto the ground, I frowned at him. “I’m serious. I get that you think you’re like fucking Superman. Invincible, bulletproof, and all that shit with your friends at your side, but newsflash, no matter how tough you are or who your friends are, you’re still human.”
He came to sit on the edge of the bed beside me, kicking the damp towel out of the way. “It was one fight. That I provoked.”
“But it won’t be the last. I can see it in your eyes. You’re not done with him yet.”
He didn’t bat an eyelid. “No. Not by a long shot.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What are you hiding?”
“I will always protect you.” Determination and cockiness coated more than just his voice. His body was lined with it, the muscles in his shoulders firming.
I plucked at a string from my distressed jean shorts. “So what do we do now?”
His lips pressed into a flat line. “Wedo nothing.I’lltake care of him. The photos too.”
Suspicion knotted in my stomach. “What do you mean by ‘take care of’?” Regardless that I had known the Elite nearly my entire life, I still didn’t know about half the crap they pulled. Probably didn’t want to.
“It’s better you don’t know,” he retorted, mimicking my thoughts.