Page 14 of The Blame Game

“A shower sounds nice,” he admitted when he could finally speak again. He set the inhaler on the nearby dresser.

“Leave your clothes here. I’ll put them in a garbage bag, then take them to the dry cleaner.”

Shea stripped off his shirt, unthinkingly saying, “You probably should burn them.”

They both winced.

When Shea was naked, Dom took his elbow and tugged him toward the en suite bathroom.

It was white and bright and Dom immediately flipped on the water inside the shower while Shea leaned against the counter, feeling strange and shaky from the albuterol.

It worked great to relax the airways but it left him feeling weird.

“C’mon.” Dom said, herding him toward the glass shower door. He followed him inside.

Shea protested. “Oh, you don’t have to—”

“Yeah, I do,” Dom said shortly. “I’m afraid you’re going to pass out and we don’t want to call the paramedics again tonight if you smack your head open.”

Willing to admit Dom was right about that, Shea leaned against the shower wall, eyes half-closed, and let the water run over him.

It felt like painful little pricks against his cold skin. He’d been so dazed he hadn’t noticed the outside temperature while he was treated in the ambulance.

But it was mid-February and there was still snow on the ground. He was shivering now.

Shea jerked in surprise when Dom touched his hair.

“Duck your head,” he said gruffly. “Gotta wash this smoke away or it’ll never get out of the pillows.”

Shea let Dom soap his hair, rinse it clean, then work in a little conditioner.

He slumped against Dom’s chest as Dom scrubbed his skin with body wash, mumbling a grateful “thank you” as he dropped his forehead to Dom’s shoulder.

For a second, Dom froze, then slid his arms around Shea, holding him close.

Shea knew he couldn’t get used to this, couldn’t read anything into it. It was probably only Dom feeling guilty about how the night had gone.

But for a few heartbeats, as Shea let the water fall onto his tired body and he breathed in the soft, soapy scent of Dom’s skin, he let himself pretend that it was more than it was.

That maybe Dom could someday feel even a fraction of what Shea felt for him.

“You falling asleep on me?” Dom asked, a low, almost fond rumble in Shea’s ear, and he forced himself to lift his head.

“Nah,” he said, pulling away. “But if we stand here any longer, I might.”

Dom gave him a faint smile. “Think you can safely get out on your own? I still need to wash my hair.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine,” Shea promised.

He stepped out onto the bathmat and reached for a big fluffy towel. It was warm and he hugged it to his chest for a second, grateful Dom had turned on the heated rack.

Shea had finished drying his hair when the water shut off. Dom was suddenly beside him, dripping wet.

“Need a toothbrush?” he asked.

Shea nodded, wrapping the towel around his waist, then handing a fresh one to Dom. “Please.”

He couldn’t meet Dom’s gaze in the mirror while he brushed his teeth, and he was drooping with exhaustion by the time Dom flipped back the covers on the bed.

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