Steam rolled off the tiles in soft clouds, sliding down the glass door and blurring his reflection. Chris braced his palms against the cool marble of the shower wall and let the water beat against the back of his neck until his skin stung.
He didn't need to see Dax to know the man was furious. The change in the air had been enough. That brief, velvet tone in the wardrobe had been a lid on something deeper. 'Glass under pressure,' he thought. 'If I've learned anything about him, it's that calm is the moment before he decides what to break.'
His stomach tightened. 'And what do I do? Stand here clutching a bottle like some rookie?' He squeezed his eyes shut, water streaming down his face. 'My whole life got turned upside down overnight. New country, new wing, new rules. And he wants me to just slide into it as if I was born for this.'
