Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
the showers
BLAIR
Imiss the days when I’d crawl in bed at night and just… sleep. For months now, insomnia has been my constant companion, my restless mind robbing me of the ability to rest.
Tonight is no different.
I’ve got no shortage of spiraling thoughts to keep me wide awake, my mind replaying the events of the day while overanalyzing every moment.
After Cam and Avery walked in on us in the command center, things were awkward between me and Matty for the rest of the day.
We tried to fall back into our usual routine– working at our stations, exchanging polite, quiet conversation– but we both felt the weight of the elephant in the room bearing down on us.
It was apparent in every glance we shared, every word we whispered.
Each one only reinforced that he’s not giving up until I tell him what’s wrong.
That’s the kicker, though– opening up to people has never been easy for me, and laying my vulnerabilities bare for him scares me more than it should.
I think part of me is afraid that once he knows how badly damaged I am, it’ll forever change the way he sees me.
Nobody has ever looked at me the way Matty does, like I’m beautiful and perfect and fucking special. I don’t want to lose that.
I don’t want to lose him.
Guess it just took an embarrassing meltdown for me to realize that.
As we were packing up to go home after work, Matty asked if we could go somewhere to actually talk, but of course I avoided it again by telling him I’m not quite ready.
It’s not a lie. I know he deserves to know what’s really going on with me, but tonight I just need space to sort out my feelings and figure things out on my own.
He respected that, of course. Matty always does.
He’s the kind of man that seems too perfect to be real– patient, understanding to a fault, respectful of every boundary I’ve set.
He’s also sweet and attentive, but when he needs to be, he’s got a steady strength; a command that makes me feel both safe and seen.
When he took control this morning, I had no idea how badly I needed him to.
That action only reinforced how incredible he really is, and why he’s the kind of guy you don’t let slip through your fingers.
I almost did. If Matty wasn’t so insistent, I would’ve kept stubbornly shutting him out until I lost the only thing that’s given me an ounce of happiness since Dylan died. I used to be irritated by his persistence and refusal to take no for an answer, but now, I’m grateful for it.
I roll over in bed with a soft sigh, kicking the covers away and reaching over to grab my phone off my nightstand.
Though I pushed off having a real conversation with Matty, I did agree to exchange a few texts with him.
Nothing heavy, just brief exchanges to check in.
It was strangely comforting to send messages back and forth all evening, making me feel less alone in the quiet numbness of my mind.
It was also easier to be honest when I didn’t have to face him directly, easier to let my guard down from behind the safety of my phone screen.
In those paralyzing moments of anxiety as I tried to process my feelings over everything, agonizing over how to move forward, his texts started to feel like a lifeline.
My fingers graze the smooth surface of the screen, and without thinking, I open up our message thread from earlier. My heart jumps when I see grey bubbles moving at the bottom, indicating that he’s typing.
I hold my breath, anxiously awaiting his text. Then, just as quickly as they appeared, the bubbles are gone. No message comes through.
So, I decide to send him one, my fingers moving almost instinctively as I type it out.
Can’t sleep either?
His response is instant.
Matty: Now who’s stalking who?
I grin, sinking back into the pillows.
Any tips to cure this insomnia?
Matty: Count sheep? Or does that make wolves hungry?
Ha. Ha.
Matty: ;)
I chew on the inside of my cheek as I debate my reply, wincing at how raw the skin has become after doing it so much today. It’s as if my shifter healing is refusing to kick in until I address the problem that’s giving rise to the nervous habit.
Might hit the showers.
Matty: Good time to do it if you want to be alone, they’re usually empty at this hour.
I feel the faintest blush creep up my neck, my fingers moving to type out a response. I promptly delete it, then type it again, my thumb hovering over the button a beat too long before I finally work up the nerve to hit send.
I wouldn’t mind some company.
I throw my phone back onto the nightstand like it’s on fire, too chicken shit to even see if he’ll respond.
Shoving up from my bed, I pace over to the closet, grabbing my toiletry bag and a change of pajamas before heading for the door.
My heart beats a riot in my chest as I pull it open, slipping out into the hall.
The silence of the dorms at midnight makes every sound seem sharper– the pad of my feet against the floor, the distant hum of the air conditioning, the steady beat of my pulse in my ears.
It’s dark, the hallway illuminated only by the dim glow of the nightlights along the walls.
I quickly make my way to the locker room, the door swinging open with a soft creak and the cold, sterile air hitting my skin as I enter. As expected, it’s vacant. Perfect.
I don’t turn on the lights. The soft glow from the sconces along the walls is more than enough, and my enhanced vision guides me through the room, my senses sharpening in the dark.
Moving toward the long bench in the center, I set my things down and swiftly strip off my clothes.
Goosebumps pebble up on my skin as the cool air washes over my bare form, and I hurriedly cross the room to claim one of the corner showers, cranking it on.
It only takes a minute or so for the water to get to temperature.
I test it with my palm periodically, then step underneath the spray, letting the warmth soothe the tension in my shoulders.
Steam rapidly begins to build, surrounding me in a cloud of soft mist. Leaning into the spray, I close my eyes for a moment and let out a contented sigh, relaxing my body and mind as the water washes me clean.
Then I hear the door opening.
My eyes pop open just in time to catch Matty stepping into the locker room with a change of clothes in hand. He pauses when our eyes meet through the darkness, his cheeks flushing at my state of undress before he averts his bashful gaze.
I can’t help but smile at his reaction. It’s so human, and way more endearing than it has any right to be.
Matty carefully makes his way over to the bench, hindered by the dim lighting as his eyes slowly adjust. Setting his clothes down next to mine, he turns his back to undress.
I watch with rapt attention as he tugs off his t-shirt, my mouth watering at the way his muscles ripple beneath his golden skin.
Then he drops his pants, and my eyes feast over his firm ass and toned thighs, a needy throb starting up between my own.
The back view is just a snack, though, because when he turns around, I’m treated to the main course– his stupidly handsome face, broad chest, sculpted six-pack abs, and that massive, veiny cock hanging heavy between his thighs.
Goddamn.
His blue eyes lock with mine as he starts prowling in my direction, moving across the room with effortless grace.
“We still need to talk, you know,” he murmurs, his voice quieter than usual, but no less assured. The low, velvety rumble of it washes over me like a drug, sending a shiver racing down my spine despite the heat of the water pelting my skin.
“I know,” I reply hoarsely, spinning around and tipping my head back to let the water run over my face, hoping it’ll help settle my racing heart. “But not now.”
I hear Matty step closer, feel the heat radiating from his body as he closes in on me. “When?”
Edging out from underneath the shower spray, I blink the water from my lashes, turning to glance back at him over my shoulder. “Soon,” I say, a smirk tugging at my lips as I spin to face him fully. Planting my hands on my hips, I push out my chest, daring him to look.
He falls right into the trap I’ve laid. His eyes darken as they roam over my naked form, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as his gaze slowly climbs up to meet my own again.
For the longest moment we just stand there staring at one another, surrounded by the mist of the shower, listening to the splash of water against the tile.
Shit, from the intensity in his gaze, I’m no longer sure which of us is the predator and which is the prey.
He’s the first to go in for the kill. Matty’s hands grasp for my hips, yanking my body into his and crashing his lips against mine.
There’s no hesitation, none of his usual carefulness– just the raw, desperate need to connect.
He consumes me with a kiss that’s hungry, feral, downright fucking filthy, and I’m instantly putty in his hands, completely at his mercy.
His hands roam my body, grasping my waist and palming my breasts.
My nipples harden into stiff peaks beneath his touch, back arching as he pinches them between his fingers.
Our tongues tangle in a battle for dominance, but it’s clear who’s in control right now.
I willingly give it over to him, losing myself to the heady blend of sensations coursing through my body.
I’m breathless when we finally break apart, the pulse in my chest erratic as I reach up to sweep the wet strands of hair away from his forehead and rest mine against his.
“I know we need to talk, but for now, just keep kissing me,” I whisper, my voice catching.
“Help me remember what it’s like to feel. ”