I stepped inside and closed the glass door behind me. Warm water poured over my shoulders, but it was the heat in front of me that made my skin truly come alive.
I circled my arms around her waist, pulling her back against me until our slick skin met in every place it could. She tilted her head to the side, just enough to let me find that sensitive spot beneath her ear. I kissed it slowly, deliberately, my mouth moving in rhythm with the steady splash of water above us.
My hands glided up her sides, palms flattening over the warmth of her torso. I traced the smooth lines of muscle beneath her skin, savoring the slight tremble I felt when my fingers caught lightly at the ridges of her ribs.
I pressed closer, fitting myself to the curve of her back, and let my wet hands settle at her hips.
“Morning,” I murmured into her skin.
I heard her sigh. “Best one I’ve had in a while.”
She turned in my arms, her eyes finding mine through the mist. Wet lashes blinked slowly, her expression tender and quiet in a way that made my chest ache.
She reached for the soap and lathered it slowly between her hands before touching me—starting at my neck, down to my collarbone, then over the curve of my breasts like she was sculpting something only she could see.
Her hands moved lower, following the line of my waist before sliding around to my back. She pulled me in until there was no space left between us.
I let my head fall forward as she washed me, her hands slow and reverent, moving over my shoulders and down my spine.
“I owe you an apology,” she said, her voice low but firm over the sound of the water. “For last night. For the way I’ve been acting.”
“Eva—”
“No,” she interrupted gently. “I need to say this.”
Her eyes were serious, searching mine. “Lately, every opportunity beyond basketball has felt like the one I couldn’t say no to. But Icansay no. And I will. No to the podcast. No to more photoshoots. Nothing extra that pulls me away from us.”
“You don’t have to give it up,” I said. “I know how much you’ve worked for all this.”
She stepped closer, both of us soaked and bare, and framed my face in her soapy hands.
“I worked my ass off,” she agreed. “But what’s the point of having it all if I loseyouin the process?” Her voice cracked just slightly. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like a footnote.”
Her lips found mine—slow, searching, like she was trying to memorize every inch of me all over again. I responded instinctively, fingers threading into her damp braids, pulling her closer until our bodies aligned completely.
She sighed against my mouth, her hands tangling in the hair at my nape, tugging me deeper into her.
We moved together beneath the spray, each touch an unspoken apology, a promise to try harder. Her skin was soft beneath my palms, the scent of her soap mingling with the steam—a heady reminder that she was real, and here, right now.
“You’re not a footnote, Lex,” she ghosted against my lips. “You’re the whole goddamn story.”
Eventually,we had to leave the shower—skin flushed, fingers pruny from too much heat and water. Eva wrapped herself in a towel and disappeared into the kitchen with the promise of making us breakfast.
I lingered in the bedroom, pulling on a clean T-shirt and sleep shorts, before checking my phone out of habit. I had a missed call from my Shamrocks teammate, Briana. The voicemail caught my attention. Bri was only a few years older than me, but definitely more of a texter.
From the kitchen, I heard the unmistakable sound of something hitting the floor, followed by a muttered curse.
“How do you want your eggs?” Eva called, cheerful and totally unbothered.
“Surprise me,” I called back, a little distracted.
I tapped on the voicemail and held the phone to my ear. Briana’s voice came through, low and familiar:
“Yo, Lex, what are you and your girl doing in January? We’re starting a new 3x3 league down in Miami. It’s gonna be big, and honestly, I think it’d be perfect for you two. Time away,some competition, stay in playing shape. Hit me back if you’re interested. Later!”
I walked into the kitchen to find Eva barefoot, still in her towel, eggshells on the counter and a skillet heating crooked on the stove. The place was a mess, and somehow it made her even more beautiful.
She looked up, eyes bright. “Everything okay?”
