Leo
I stared at the marble wall of the bathroom, pointedly looking away as Miller stepped into the tub.
My pulse was thrumming in my ears—a rhythmic drumming that intensified when I heard the heavy slosh of water.
"Okay, Doc, I'm in. You can stop pretending the wall is interesting now," Miller called out, his voice echoing sharply against the tiles.
I exhaled, trying to steady my hands against the cool stone before turning around.
Miller was already submerged up to his chest, his arms draped over the edge of the deep tub. Even with the water obscuring the rest of him, his broad shoulders and the damp hair clinging to his neck made the bathroom feel far too small.
He was simply that large; a physical presence that defied the boundaries I tried to maintain.
