His fists where clenched against the tile above his head and his chest rose and fell in deep, heavy shudders. He’d kicked off his shoes and rid himself of the ripped shirt, but still had his jeans on. And the water was cold. She could tell by the lack of steam and the chill in the air. “Devon, you shouldn’t be in here.” His voice was low, rough and sounded as if it was forced out of him. He didn’t look at her, didn’t acknowledge her presence in any other way. She swallowed against the lump in her throat. “You—you came for me today, you risked—even after everything, you—” “Did you think I wouldn’t?” “I… Seth, I’m sorry, so sorry. If I could take it all back I would, every bit of it.” “Sorry?” He closed his eyes, clenched them tight. “Dammit, Devon, you don’t want to be with me, you don’t want me touching you, fine.”
