Ultraviolet ✔️

19.2

Chapter Nineteen, Part Two

I'm still up long after that, thinking about what happened to him. He's keeping things bottled up, but I can't pretend that he's not fazed by anything that's happening. It feels as though we're both holding our breath and waiting for the inevitable, whatever the inevitable might be.

The next morning, I stir before Joel, climbing out bed slowly and sifting through his bag to find something I can wear. Thankfully, Mallory has taken the liberty of leaving some clothes folded by the door when I open it.

Heard about the fire, figured I would leave a few of my old things for you to have.

The jeans hang a little loose on my hips and her sweater is a little baggy, but they fit fine enough. I lay them down on the counter beside me as reach for the knob on the shower. As I'm tugging on the hem of my shirt to pull it over my head, I hear the door open.

"Got room for one more?" Joel asks, his voice still thick from sleep.

I blush, letting my top fall to the floor. "I guess."

He turns the lock on the door and faces me again, one of his eyebrows arched at me. "You guess?"

"Fine," I step forward, gazing up at him. "I absolutely have room for one more."

Taking a shower with more than one person is a lot more complicated than it sounds. The showerhead is only so big and there's only so much hot water. I spend the entire duration overthinking it, but Joel doesn't. He kisses my neck, following the curve of me all the way to my shoulder. I feel his tongue gently tracing the skin and my knees begin to quiver.

"I never got a chance to join you in our hotel room," he says gruffly. "I wanted to, though."

"You did?"

"So bad."

"How bad?"

He guides me backward until the space between us is practically gone. I can feel every inch of him, and all of his wanting is crystal clear. "This bad."

My next words come out as a squeak. "What are you going to do about it?"

Abruptly, my back is pushed into the wall, and he shatters me in one move. He stays there for a long time, his face in my collarbone, my knuckles wrapped around his short hair. We move together, saying everything we need to in each shift of our hips. I swear, I've never been closer to him than I am now, speaking in a language all our own, so private and intimate there aren't words for it.

By the time we're dressed and out of the shower, Mallory is coming home from work, setting grocery bags down on the table. Both of the kids are at school and won't be back for a few hours, so she brews a pot of coffee and starts making herself some lunch.

"How was work, sis?" Joel asks, taking a bite of the lasagna from last night that he reheated in the microwave.

"Tiring," she answers. "The kids are always bursting with energy, even when I'm not."

"I don't know how you do it," he replies. "I'm definitely not good with little kids. I don't have the patience."

I glance at him with genuine surprise. "You're not?"

He shakes his head. "Even when Daniel and Avalon were younger I had trouble with them. They're just so loud and hyperactive."

"But you're great with them now," Mallory chimes in as she pours some cream into her coffee. "That's what counts. They think the world of you."

She fetches me a mug of my own that I take gratefully, inhaling the familiar smell of freshly brewed cappuccino. My coffee is always cheap and borderline tar-like, so the more expensive cups are always lovely, especially when they come from a fancy espresso machine.