l. She slipped out of the kitchen and s

enough room for two people. Panic alarms blared in her hea

om acted like a ticking timer. She needed a f

eavily worn tracksuit. It covered her from neck to ankle, pr

essing her body flush against the wall. She oc

owing her breathing. She deployed the o

Aliya's heart shot up into her throa

arm, humid air rolled out. Cyrus's he

towel wrapped around his waist. Drops of water slid

back of the woman who was practically tryi

ycheck and late hours, she would be clinging to him, d

e laundry basket in the corner of the room. He bent d

underwear, his brow twitched subtly, as if he had touched something contaminated. He pinched the f

ead. He picked up the basket and walked out

t a massive breath. He had gone down

ief, but she knew it was onl

ed back into the room, bringing with him the fai

r rigid, fake-sleeping posture. She

wardrobe. He turned off the main overhead lig

wn on the other side of the bed. His overwhelming masculi

yrus lay flat on his back, his hands resting on his

-sharp. He could clearly distinguish the

A cold, mocking smirk pulle

rus suddenly rolled ov

invisible boundary. His fingertips hove

Every hair on her body stood up. Her b

the cheap fabric of her tracksuit shou

plit second. She tried to hide it, but Cyrus

eyes deepened. He p

velly voice sliced through the

d catastrophically failed. She slowly opened her eyes and tu