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Isis rolled over onto her back and stretched herself out until she slid into the sink. She held her face under the faucet and stared at me.

“I have to take a shower.”

She blinked at me and I rolled my eyes. I turned the tap on to the barest hint of a drip and she lapped at the water like the spoiled princess she was. I gave her a minute then turned off the faucet.

She batted at my hand, but I ignored her for the sheer heaven of my own shower. I turned both of my body shower heads onto full blast and stepped into the steaming water.

I flipped the switch to turn the rain hood on and simply stood under the water for a few minutes. Exhaustion weighed me down, and I swayed slightly in the stall.

I’d gone too many nights without sleep in a row. I needed at least four hours down, or I’d end up falling face first into whatever food Gideon picked for us to eat. Diner? Spinning Wheel? Maybe even the steakhouse at the edge of town.

I wasn’t overly particular, but I wouldn’t make it through the salad portion in my current state. If that was what we were doing. Gideon seemed a standard fare kind of guy.

Dinner. Awkward conversation. Maybe I’d invite him back here to bang it out.

I wasn’t stupid. I knew that was where we were heading. The minute we’d gotten our hands on one another, I’d known it would be part of our future in some form or another. I just wasn’t sure how the steps were going to go. Or the duration of it.

One and done? I tipped my head back under the water. Or a trio of secret bangs so our friends and neighbors didn’t link us up like the other fallen idiots infesting this town?

I lathered my hair and the familiar honey and milk scent of my shampoo filled the steamy air. I wasn’t like Rylee and her sister with their potions and weeping credit card to Sephora. I was more of a six-dollar bottle of shampoo and conditioner kind of girl. It did the job and didn’t break the bank.

I preferred to put my extra cash into my dream projects like The Haunt. It was a legacy I could leave behind, unlike my parents who hadn’t had more than a pair of pennies to rub together.

Between the medical bills for my father, and the shitbox apartment my mother could barely afford to pay for, we’d struggled most of my life. Eventually, my dad had withered away from his weak heart.

Nolan, my brother, had been the first to get out. He’d sent back money to help when he could, but he’d been more interested in his metal art sculptures that he made from pieces at scrapyards than keeping a steady job.

I’d stuck around to take care of my mom and had fancied myself in love with one of my brother’s friends. I’d been too much in my own way to see I was falling into the same patterns as my mom.

Caretaker. Support system. Doormat. It was really all I’d ever known.

The burn of tears sideswiped me. I hadn’t allowed myself to think about Chicago for a damn long time. I doused my tears with the spray as I washed away the conditioner and suds of my bath wash.

After my mom had died from exhaustion and her own heart issues—

hers more of a broken heart instead of the corrosive damage of drugs and alcohol like my father—I’d turned to building a life with the one man I thought loved me.

Lou had taught me that pain was relative. I’d already grieved for my parents long before they’d found their way into their matching cemetery plots. Losing my parents had been nothing close to the sledgehammer of pain he’d provided. I’d left everyone and never looked back.

And that was where my damn memory lane ended.

I obviously wasn’t fit for anyone tonight. I’d just tell Gideon the date wasn’t happening. Maybe I’d even get more than four hours of sleep.

Right. I’d be lucky to get ninety minutes.

I rested my head against the glass door of my shower for a second before opening it and slipping into my fuzzy, ancient terrycloth robe. I took care of my usual post-shower routine as I drip-dried.

Isis daintily licked droplets of water off my ankles while I brushed and flossed. I’d definitely taken way longer than fifteen minutes due to my stupid brain.

I quickly wrapped my hair up in a towel and rushed down the hall to check on my charge.

She was curled up in the beanbag chair with Trick tucked behind her shoulder. Both were sleeping soundly while Wesley and Inigo battled in a test of wills and swordplay.

The quick rap on my door had me tugging on the tie of my robe. Then again, I didn’t know how I was doing the handoff with Gideon.

I peered through the peephole and winced.

“Crap.” I looked over my shoulder. The kid was still out.

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