I sink into the bathtub, the hot water a blissful ache against my cold-stiffened muscles.
It's supposed to be relaxing.
My mind refuses to cooperate.
The memory of the kiss against the door plays on a loop, perfect… until it isn't. The way he suddenly broke it off, pulling back as if scalded.
The way his eyes dropped, that familiar, infuriating silence descending like a curtain between us.
Sometimes, I really don't understand Deniz's shy behavior.
The thought crystallizes, sharp and clear in the steam.
Should I ask?
Yes. Of course I should ask. We're dating now.
I'm his boyfriend.
The word, still so new and precious, gives me a jolt of frustrated courage.
I stand up in the tub, water sluicing off my body in a noisy cascade.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
The sound is an impatient clock. I step out, snatch the bathrobe from the hook, and shove my arms through the sleeves.
I tie the belt with a quick, loose jerk, leaving a V of skin exposed from my throat down my chest.
