Page 91 of Glass Rose
A woman emerges from the hallway, warm brown eyes widening at the sight of us. She’s mid-thirties, wearing a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up, two silver bangles clinking against her wrist as she approaches.
“My God.” She takes in Sofia’s drenched form in my arms. “Is she?—”
“Hypothermia, probably.” I shift her weight. “Need to get her warm.”
Ellie springs into action. “Your room’s ready. I’ll grab extra blankets and make tea.”
“Thanks.” I follow her, Sofia’s breathing shallow against my neck.
The room is sparse but clean—queen bed with military corners, dresser, single window with blackout curtains. I lay Sofia on the bed, careful with her head.
“I’ll get those dry clothes,” Ellie says.
“Gavin?” Sofia wraps her hand around one of my fingers, ice-cold and trembling. “Your team… they don’t trust me.”
“They don’t know you.”
“Do you?” Her voice is barely audible.
I sit on the edge of the bed. “I know enough.”
“Gavin—”
I interlace our fingers. “We’re safe.”
Ellie returns with a stack of clothes and towels. “I’ll help her change. Why don’t you get yourself dry too?”
I hesitate.
“It’s okay,” Sofia says. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Standing, I brush my lips against her temple. “I’ll be right back.”
Ethan’s waiting in the hallway, arms crossed, and his eyes dropping to the scars visible on my wrists. “You’re different.”
“Long story.”
“The virologist.”
“Don’t start.”
“Didn’t say anything.” His eyes gleam with that shit-eating grin. “Just never thought I’d see the day.”
“What day?”
“The day Gavin Hart went soft for a woman.”
EPILOGUE
SOFIA
I’m drowning again, the cold water filling my lungs, swallowing me whole. Then warmth registers. A strong arm draped over my waist, a solid chest warm against my back.
Gavin.
The room is dim, morning light peeking through half-closed curtains shedding light on the dark wood furniture and navy sheets of the bed, which smell like pine and something uniquely him.
His scent is everywhere, cocooning me like another blanket.
