Page 15 of Watch Me Burn

“Apologies, love,” he began, a certain edge to his voice. “But you see, enduring fifteen hellish years in prison for a crime I never committed, simply because people chose not to believe me, made me feel like I’ve earned the right to a hot shower without the constant threat of warding off rapists or cockroaches skittering across my foot.”

A droplet of water trickled down his jawline, landing right onto his pecs.

Damn, he was hot.

But that was irrelevant, and not something I specifically asked to see. If I couldn’t even trust him, an ex-convict, to stay out of my bedroom, how could we reasonably work in close quarters? But then, this overpowering sensation of guilt almost nauseated me to the point of throwing up. I couldn’t even bear looking at him. If he was really innocent . . .

“Well, I’m awake now,” I grumbled. “And in the twenty-first century, it’s not a big deal when a man takes a shower at a woman’s apartment. I mean, you’ve been with plenty of women since you got out, right?”

Ethan cocked a brow at me.

“I mean, isn’t that what guys do when you get out? Go to bars or brothels to have sex?”

His other brow cocked up as if I had just said the most ridiculous thing. Which I might have . . .

“Just don’t mess with the bull and you won’t get his horn,” he said in a low tone that sounded almost like a threat.

I swallowed hard. “A-all I’m saying is that . . . that I’m the owner of this apartment, so you’ll need to keep some boundaries. Okay?”

Ethan scrunched his face. “Fair enough.”

“G-good . . .”

My heart plummeted at the way his face twitched, but the words just spilled out of my mouth like an erupted volcano. I didn’t know how to contain my resentment, and the crazy thing was that I didn’t even know why I was so mad.

We stood in awkward silence for a few moments before he asked, “So, should I change in here or take my clothes to the den?”

I hugged my chest tighter. “You can finish up in there,” I said. He gave me a thin smile, closing the door as gently as he could. Nonetheless, the bitterness in that gesture was palpable.

Suddenly, I felt like an asshole.

He should have knocked and asked, but maybe I could’ve handled things differently. But we were still a few hours after the bomb dropped that he wasn’t the one who murdered my father fifteen years ago. How was I supposed to cope with this truth, let alone interact with him like everything was normal?

Nothing was normal. It didn’t matter if we sniffed out the “real” killer today or found a faulty step in the stairwell tomorrow. Until an official cause of death was placed on my dad’s obituary that didn’t cast Ethan as the villain, I didn’t know how to trust my heart with the way it craved his return to my life. Because I still saw the Ethan who tended to hurt animals and the hurt little me, but a truth blurrier than that could exist. And if things weren’t how they originally seemed, I’d need time to get over that, too.

CLACK!

In all my time staring at the bathroom door like a weirdo, Ethan had finished changing and opened it to leave. He didn’t say anything as he strode past me and out my bedroom door.

Good. This was the way it was supposed to be, right? We’d strictly focus on what would help the case get solved and ignore everything else. We didn’t have to become old buddies again. We needed to get the stain off Ethan’s record and find the monster who killed my dad.

I rolled my shoulder blades while walking to my bathroom. I was feeling especially tight this morning, and not just because I was sharing my place with someone I’d reunited with less than a day ago.

My thighs clamped the minute I entered the washroom. Its aroma still wafted Ethan’s scent, sharp and earthy despite him pilfering from my body wash.

I massaged my neck, gazing into the mirror. We’d both changed so much since we last met.

“I’m not the same little girl you used to know,” I muttered to myself.

Now, I’d see how that panned out in our collaboration.

But where to begin?

“Check this out,” I said to Ethan while turning my laptop. He peered over my shoulder, straining for a glimpse.

“Not so close,” I whispered sharply. Shifting the laptop more to the middle, I added, “What do you think about it?”

“It looks like you’ve found the faculty of our old local high school’s website.”

---