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I have no idea how much time has passed, as this amazing tub keeps the water at a steady temperature. Drowsy, I suddenly hear the click of the doorknob, and I’m suddenly wide awake.
What the fuck?
Panicked, I accidentally knock my glass off the edge of the tub, and it shatters on the polished tile floor with a musical sound.
“Who’s there?” I call, trying to keep my voice from quavering.
I hoist myself up a little, but not too much, wondering why the hell did I drop my robe on the other side of the room.
Shit, shit, shit…no cover!
What can I use for a weapon? Wildly, I look around the bathroom, but nothing seems obvious.
“Izzie?”
Double shit! It’s Brady’s voice.
“Izzie, is that you?” Brady comes into view through the cloud of steam, setting the candles to flickering wildly.
“What the hell…” His voice trails off as he sees me.
I use my toes to flick the whirlpool control to a higher speed, desperately hoping more bubbles will conceal me.
“I, uh…hi, Brady.”
Brady comes a little further into the room. He looks a little travel-rumpled and tired. He looks at me with a quizzical expression, half questioning and half interested.
Uh-oh.
“Watch out for the broken glass,” I say weakly, hoping the bubbles are screening most of me from his gaze.
“I’m sorry…I thought you were gone until tomorrow, and Liam’s at a friend’s, so…I guess I was indulging in a little pampering.” I manufacture a chuckle that doesn’t fool anyone.
Brady sidesteps the broken glass, eyeing the candles. “You seem pretty cozy here,” he remarks.
I blush. “It’s been a long week,” I offer lamely.
He smiles. “I bet.”
“I, uh…”Oh come on, Izzie, try not to sound like a total wine-sodden imbecile.
“I’m sorry, I just couldn’t resist the idea of a whirlpool bath. If you give me a moment, I’ll get out of here and clean up the glass.”
“There’s no hurry,” Brady drawls, and then leans back on the edge of the counter, folding his arms. He studies me, raising one eyebrow, as I sink lower into the bubbles.
“Nice view,” he finally comments.
Jeezus, I’m torn between wanting to crawl into a hole and hide—fully clothed—and half wishing he’d crawl in here with me, which is totally unacceptable.
This is Brady, I remind myself.Remember?The dick who killed your sister?
But somehow, the words have lost their righteous indignation as I try not to run my eyes over him.
I swallow, trying to sound normal. “Wh..what brings you back so early? I thought you wouldn’t be back until tomorrow.”
Brady shrugs. “I didn’t feel like staying. Not in the mood for a big team bar blowout, I guess.” He pauses, then says, “I kinda thought it would be nicer to hang with you and Liam.”
“Um, yeah…” I say. “Well, if you’d give me a minute to get out and put something on, maybe we could have a glass of wine together and watch a movie or something.”
