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22

He grunted in response, which rubbed me the wrong way. Why was he acting like this? He’d started being more open about his days, but the way he was acting now reminded me of when we’d first met. Back then, he’d been rude and cagey—a real asshole, to be honest. I’d thought we’d left that phase of our life behind, dammit.

While he finished up his shower, I yanked sheets from the mattress and replaced them with clean linens that smelled like lavender. The calming scent did nothing to settle my nerves, though.

Eventually, he emerged from the shower in a cloud of steam with a towel wrapped around his waist. No matter how frustrated I was with him, I couldn’t help noticing what a beautiful man he was—hard muscles imprinted with scars from past battles, intricate tattoos that spread from his tanned right shoulder to his wrist. I loved watching his hard muscles shift under his soft skin.

When he dropped the towel, I tore my eyes away from him and focused on the laundry. I would not let his se
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