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“They’ve worked for me for ten years now, and the number of times I’ve caught them staring at each other …” He smiled softly to himself, his breath warm on my neck. “It almost makes me believe in love.”
“You don’t believe in love?” I whispered.
He stiffened behind me. “Do you?”
“I do.”
A long pause.
“What does it feel like?” he finally asked.
“A lot of people think love is being happy all the time with someone else, like a never-ending honeymoon phase,” I said, voice quieting. “But that’s not what love is to me. Love is being safe with someone, staying through the hard times, and wanting what’s best for them even if it hurts you in the end.”
Another long pause.
“Have you ever been in love before?” he said behind me.
“I’ve loved my family, but as for another person …” I swallowed hard and pressed my hand against my inner thigh under the bubbles because I didn’t want him to see how much I wanted to scream out, Yes! “I’m not sure. Have you?”
“No.”
A single word from his mouth squeezed at my heart.
“Oh.”
He stiffened even harder, a bunch of ums and uhs tumbling out of his mouth. “I mean—”
“Mr. Patton, should I bring them in?” Brigitta asked.
Silence washed over us once more, and I settled back against him, deciding to let it go.
“Can she bring them in?” Steven asked me.
“Steven”—I stifled a small laugh—“everyone has already seen me naked.”
“At Radiant,” he clarified. “And just because people have seen you naked once doesn’t give anyone the right to see you naked again or in any other circumstance. That’s how consent works, love. Tell me you understand that.”
I paused for a moment. “I never really thought of it that way.”
While I hadn’t done anything serious with Luke, I’d always felt like he expected me to do certain things or act a certain way just because I had done it before. But sometimes, I didn’t feel like it. Sometimes, I’d wanted to just be without having to offer my body up for him.
“I understand now,” I whispered.
He curled his lips into a small smile and pushed some wet hair off my forehead. “So?”
“She can come in,” I said. “It’s okay.”
Steven laid one arm over my nipples, which were peeking out just above the bubbles, as if to still provide me with some decency. “Brigitta, you can come in.”
The door opened, and a petite woman shuffled into the room with a wooden serving tray. She set it on the sink counter and grabbed both glasses filled to the top with, what looked to be, strawberry-mango smoothies. She handed me one.
“Thank you, Brigitta.”
She nodded and handed one to Steven. “Of course, Miss Monroe.”
“You can call me Sierra.”
“Well then, enjoy your bath, Sierra and Mr. Patton,” she said, shuffling to the door.
