KNOX’S POV
The water’s hot enough to hurt for the first three seconds.
Then the burn fades and something in the whole length of my back lets go so hard I actually groan out loud. She laughs at me. I don’t care.
The tub’s only a third full. She kneels on the tiles outside it, right by my shoulder, and presses her hand flat to my sternum and pushes me down.
“Lean back.”
I lean.
She takes a cup off the ledge, fills it, pours it slowly down my chest, then over my shoulders and my arms. Water everywhere.
She isn’t saying anything, she’s just watching her own hands work, and the heat and the steam and her soft, wet palm sliding flat over my chest are unpicking my brain, stripping the day off me in pieces.
It’s therapeutic.
I’m so tired and so wound up that when her hand slips under the
