To drink until the world blurred.
To snort until his brain went numb.
To fuck until nothing else existed but heat and sweat and breathless, mindless distraction.
The cycle.
It was always the fucking cycle.
Jesse exhaled harshly, fingers curling into fists against the tile.
His whole body was wound so goddamn tight he thought he might break.
And if he broke—
If he fell back in—
Who the fuck would pull him out this time?
He squeezed his eyes shut, chest rising and falling hard, struggling to control his breath.
The steam curled around him, thick and heavy, wrapping his body in heat, pressing against his skin. Jesse had his head bowed, water running in rivulets down his shoulders, his hands braced against the slick tile as exhaustion threatened to drag him under.
Then—
A shift.
Barely there. A whisper of air different from the steam.
His head snapped up. His eyes cut through the fogged glass, and—
Her.
A silhouette framed in the doorway. Auburn hair loose and wavy, her body swallowed by an oversized hoodie, bare legspeeking beneath the hem. She was just standing there. Watching him. Like she wasn’t sure he was real. Like maybe she’d dreamed this, too.
Jesse’s heart slammed into his ribs, his breath locking in his throat.
“Babe.” His voice came out rough, disbelieving.
She blinked, her lips parting, a slow exhale slipping through them. “You’re actually back.”
Her voice cracked on the last word.
Jesse swallowed hard and reached for the glass door, sliding it open as steam billowed out between them. His fingers curled around the edge, holding onto something solid because fuck, was this real? Had he finally lost it?
“Come here,” he said.
She hesitated, just for a second. Then, she reached for the hem of her hoodie and pulled it over her head.
Jesse watched in slow-motion as the fabric dropped to the floor. Then her shorts. Then her bra.
His throat worked. His vision tunneled.
Fuck.
Her lips twitched. “That all you have to say?”
He exhaled, shaking his head. “I—”