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Peter’s throat bobbed, sending a water droplet running down, down, down his neck until it disappeared beneath the collar of his wet shirt. “I don’t want to be any trouble.”

“It’s no trouble.” I gestured to his drenched form. “You’re soaking-wet, and you got that way by helping us. You’ll catch your death of cold if you don’t get out of those clothes.”

He raised an eyebrow as he fought a smile. “I won’t, actually.”

I huffed a laugh, caught off guard. “It was a figure of speech.”

“I know.”

We stood there, staring at each other, the howling wind a perfect accompaniment to the maelstrom of my thoughts.

“Come upstairs with me,” I said. Once the words left my mouth, I realized this was the second time I’d invited him into my apartment. The first had been that night I’d learned who—and what—he was. Gods, so much had happened since then.

Maybe he was remembering that night, too. He hesitated for the briefest of moments before giving me a curt nod.

“Thank you. I—” He trailed off. Swallowed. “Being in these wet clothesisreally uncomfortable.”

My apartment was messier thanit usually was, with the books and knickknacks I’d had to move from my bedroom stacked in disorderly piles in the main room.

My hands still would have shaken with nerves, even if my apartment had been spotless.

Peter glanced around my living room, eyes catching on the stack of books closest to the door. They were a motley assortment of romance novels I’d picked up at garage sales, travel guides tovarious spots on the Pacific Coast, and spell books that had been with me for decades.

“These are new,” he mused.

“They’re not,” I said. “They were just in my bedroom when you were here before.”

Something about Peter seeing things I ordinarily kept hidden from everyone else felt strangely intimate. He seemed to feel this, too, judging from the way his gaze skittered from mine.

The awkward reality of the present situation struck me all at once. Peter and I were alone in my home. He was soaking-wet and was about to get naked in my bathroom—onmyinvitation.

Well, I thought,might as well make this even more awkward.

“Do you want to take a shower?” When he said nothing, only continued to stare at me with something that looked a lot like disbelief, I scrambled to explain myself. “Since you’re all wet I just thought it would be more comfortable.”

“Oh.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“No. That is…yes.” He squeezed his eyes shut tight, then pressed his closed fists into them. Took a long, deep breath before letting it out very slowly. “I do want to. Thank you.”

“You, uh,” I said, then swallowed. “You remember where it is?”

“Yes.” He looked towards my bedroom. “In there, right?”

“Yes.” I nodded towards the closet where I kept my washer and dryer. “If you change out of your clothes, I’ll put them in the dryer for you while you’re showering. They should be ready in an hour.”

“Okay,” he said, expression unreadable. “I’ll just be a moment.”

“Take as long as you need.”

In the meantime, I would go downstairs and see what we had that was undamaged by the leaking roof and might actually fithim. I also needed to put some physical distance between us while he was showering and changing. Although I’d been the one to invite him up here in the first place, I no longer trusted myself to make good decisions knowing he was only one room away.

“Thank you,” he said again.

Then he gave a small wave before walking into my bedroom and closing the door behind him.

Lindsay had not yet hauledaway the damaged workout clothes, so there was plenty for me to look through once I got back to the studio. Unfortunately, we didn’t carry much in men’s sizes, as at least eighty-five percent of our students were women. Peter might have been the only student we’d ever had with his specific proportions.