Delinquents Turned Fugitives - Ann Denton Page 0,35

unsnapped my bra. He let me take it off as he bent and lowered my lacy panties to the tile floor.

When he stood, his blue eyes were dilated and he had to swallow hard. "Get in," he whispered.

"Aren't you going to--"

He shook his head, cutting off my question about joining me in the water. He stayed fully dressed as he grabbed my hand and led me over to the tub. The water was just short of scalding. It was perfect. I slowly sank into it and reclined against the back ledge.

Malcolm grabbed a bar of soap and a washcloth from a shelf. He dipped both in the water and then lathered it up. He gently lifted my right arm out of the water and scrubbed me clean.

"I can do that," I weakly protested.

"I want to," his response was soft. His eyes took on a quality I rarely saw from Malcolm, a gentleness that matched his touch. "How are you feeling?" he asked, as he gently placed my arm back in the water.

I tried to laugh it off, because the intensity of his gaze made everything from last night just bubble back up and I wasn't sure I was ready to process it all. "That's a loaded question. I think it might be better if you asked what I was feeling. Because, honestly, I don't know."

He nodded and switched to washing my other arm. When he finished, he dropped the rag for a moment and massaged my fingers. He rubbed soft, counterclockwise circles into them from base to tip and my entire body felt like it was melting. Then he switched to the other hand. When he'd finished, he asked, "How do you feel about your stepfather?"

I shrugged, my shoulder coming out of the water and letting tiny droplets cascade down. "We had to."

"That's what you think. How do you feel?" Malcolm's eyes searched mine.

It took me a minute to try to unravel the night and think about Claude. But when I tried to focus on him, I just, "I hate that he showed up. I hate that Andros had to do it. I hate that I couldn't. I hate that Mom is gonna be heartbroken ... " I choked up as I thought about my mom. Now she'd lost two husbands.

Worry for her filled my face and I turned to Malcolm. "She didn't answer her phone tonight."

He leaned forward and wrapped me up in a wordless hug. He didn't seem to care that I soaked his shirt. He just gently held me as sobs took over and my fear for my mother enveloped me.

When my crying lessened, Malcolm pulled back and gave me a chaste kiss, just a peck on the lips that reassured me and reaffirmed everything that had ever drawn me to him. He'd brought me up here to take care of me, to tend to me physically and emotionally. He'd made himself a valve for the pressure that I hadn't even realized had built up inside.

He was amazing.

He grabbed the wash cloth and tenderly washed my entire body. I wiped away stray tears the entire time as thoughts or memories hit and lanced me with either regret or fear for my mom.

Malcolm made me dunk my head under the water. Then he washed my hair, massaging my head and getting out every trace of Halloween dye.

As he toweled me off, I asked, "How did you know I needed this?"

He'd paused and looked at me, dragging a wet strand of hair off my chin and tucking it behind my ear. I'd stared up, tempted to wipe a spare droplet of water from his neck, but also desperate to hear his answer. No one else could read me like Malcolm.

"I know your tells," he ran his thumb over my cheekbone. "You're subtle. But I can read your emotions like a deck of cards. You lightly clench your teeth when you're upset."

I shook my head, in both embarrassment at my lack of control and a little in awe at his gold-star stalker level of attention. "But... why all this?"

The air around us grew heated as a tiny bit of Malcolm's power leached into the atmosphere. "You needed this. I need you."

12

Malcolm refused to do anything more than let me kiss him, saying I was too spent—even punching his shoulder made no difference. He’d simply pushed me out the bathroom door in my towel and locked it in my face.

I’d given up when he started the shower. But talk about blue