“Mine?”
“Everyone’s.”
“Liar.”
Her chin lifts. “Careful, Mr. Stevens.”
Mr. Stevens. I rest one palm against the wall beside her head, close enough to catch a whiff of the citrusy perfume she’s been wearing all week. I’ve involuntarily memorized it. “You keep calling me that,” I murmur.
“It’s your name.”
“No,” I edge in. “That’s what strangers call me.”
Her breath catches, tiny and sharp. Fire rolls between us, hotter than the sauna ever managed. “What should I call you?” she asks, voice low.
I grin. “You remember.” She tries to sidestep. I shift with her. Not trapping, but matching. Her hand lands on my chest to stop me. Bad decision. Every nerve in my body snaps awake. Her palm spreads over damp skin, fingers flexing once before she stills them. We both stare at her hand. We both catch it at once. My gaze drops to her lips, I whisper, “Toni.” My voice comes out rougher than I’d like. “You touching me usually ends badly.” I lean in.She knows why.
She swallows. “Usually?”
“For clothing.” Color rises in her cheeks.
“I’m working,” she says.
“At midnight?”
“It’s ten-thirty.”
“So you’ve been counting the minutes too.”
She glares. I want to kiss the glare off her face. I barely move.
“You’re impossible.”
“You liked impossible in Rockford.”
Her eyes flash. “Rockford was a mistake.” The words land cleanly. Sharp enough tocut.
I nod once. “Funny.” I step aside, giving her the corridor. “Best mistake I ever made.”
For the first time since she walked in, her confidence slips. Not much. A crack. Enough. She squares her shoulders and moves past me, perfume trailing through the air. I watch her because I’m only human.God, I missed this.
Steam washes over me the second I push through the sauna door. Dense. Wooden. The cedar is stronger in here. Thick enough to think in. I drop the towel on the bench and sit in the dark for a while, elbows on my knees, the sweat already building across my shoulders.
The door clicks.
I don’t move. The sauna is dark except for the amber glow from the heating element. The steam clings along the upper bench. I track sound instead: the soft exhale when the door seal breaks, the careful step inside, the small intake of breath when the warmth hits. Then nothing. She’s standing in the dark. And she knows it’s me. I tilt my head back against the wall. The heat has loosened everything.
“Wrong room, Toni? Am I in your way?”
She finally steps in and lets the door close behind her. She’s still dressed from the evening, but she’s barefoot. The floor is warm wood. She notices me noticing. “I’m not here to talk about that.”
“Then what are you here for?” She doesn’t answer right away. Crosses to the upper bench opposite mine and sits with her back straight and her hands in her lap, every inch of hersaying she's fine. I am not affected. I’ll give it maybe thirty seconds. “You’re going to pass out sitting like that,” I say.
“I’ve been in saunas before.”
“You’re holding tension in your shoulders that makes me tired just looking at it.”
Her chin tips up. “My shoulders are fine.”
