Tatehan stood in the shower, letting the water cascade over him.
He didn't use soap though. He didn't want to actually, he was bathing to cool his head anyways or he wouldn't be bathing at all.
The water was hot, almost scalding, and it felt good against his muscles—muscles that were still faintly sore from the fall (just a tiny bit), from the fight and from everything.
He closed his eyes and let his mind drift.
Except it didn't drift far.
It kept circling back to the same thing. The same person.
Lyra.
The way she'd looked when she'd knocked on his door yesterday. Stunning. The way she'd smiled at him across the table in that restaurant. Soft. The way she'd hugged him before they'd parted. Warm…Close. Lingering just a moment longer than necessary.
Crazy stuff!
Tatehan exhaled slowly, tilting his head back under the stream of water.
What the hell was he doing?
