"You’re not showering? I’ll take you back after five," Everett reminded her again.
Aurora had no choice but to steel herself and walk over to the wardrobe. When she opened it, it was packed with women’s clothes—tags still on, clearly brand new.
All of this... was for her?
She didn’t even know what to say. She randomly picked a soft knit dress and some undergarments.
She checked the sizes—they were all exactly her size.
This man is such a perv.
She turned to glare at Everett, annoyed. He raised an eyebrow at her, clearly amused.
"Not satisfied? If not, I’ll have someone bring more."
"How do you even know my size?"
"I can tell just by looking," Everett replied with a teasing smirk. "You’re slim—probably wear small or medium. Bra’s probably a C cup."
"You—!" Aurora trembled with anger, her face flushing bright red.
Everett looked away, but in truth, Tobias had taken care of all the sizes—by calling Dominic, who knew her measurements down to the detail.
Just then, there was a knock. Tobias stepped in.
"Sir, the master heard you were hurt. He wants to come see you. Should we go to the hospital—?"
"No need. I was planning to see him anyway," Everett said, putting down his utensils. He turned to Aurora.
"If you’re going to shower, go ahead. No one’s going to peek."
"Everett, you’re such a jerk!"
But he ignored her, tossing her a casual wave before walking out and letting the door close behind him.
Aurora stood there holding the clothes, looking over at the king-size bed.
Damn it. Why was her face red again?
Even her ears were burning. The room was at a perfectly comfortable temperature, and yet here she was, blushing like a girl in her first crush.
She thought back to being with Alexander—she’d always blush when they kissed, sure—but not just from being around him.
She slipped on a pair of slippers—he’d even prepared women’s slippers. Everett really didn’t miss a thing.
She walked into the bathroom and glanced at the suggestive artwork on the walls, her face heating up again. She quickly turned on the water.
The temperature was just right. As she slipped into the bath, a thought hit her—he must stay here often, right?
After all, this wasn’t his home. Why not just take her to his place? Maybe he was worried about an ambush?
Still, a hotel did have better facilities. Like the massive breakfast spread—no way his chef at home could’ve prepped all that so fast.
Aurora tapped herself lightly on the head.
"Ugh, Aurora, what are you even thinking about right now?"
Bubbles filled the tub as she scrubbed herself clean. She felt like such an idiot—for sleeping like a log all through their escape.
Everett must’ve been speechless.
She hadn’t even noticed when he got in the car. What if he... did something to her?
Aurora shook her head, scolding herself. She was overthinking again. She grabbed her tangled hair, brushing her fingers through it, and thought of Dominic. She needed to sneak back to the hotel soon—Dominic was probably losing his mind by now.
That thought snapped her back into action. She stayed in the tub for only fifteen minutes before getting out.
After getting dressed, she opened the bathroom door—only to jump back in surprise.
Everett was sitting on the couch right across from her, arms crossed, watching her lazily.
Wasn’t he supposed to go meet his father?
Why was he already back?
"All done?" he asked.
"Yeah... done." Aurora didn’t dare meet his eyes.
Everett stood up. "My turn. Want to join me?"
Aurora’s eyes went wide. Everett almost never joked like that. She shot him a glare.
Everett chuckled, voice thick with innuendo, then picked up his loungewear and walked into the bathroom.
Her heart was pounding in her chest.
Thank God he didn’t actually push it.
Aurora sat down on the couch, towel-drying her hair until it was only slightly damp. She spotted a hairdryer tucked away on the side of the wardrobe.
After blowing her hair dry, Everett still hadn’t come out.
Suddenly, a thought hit her—his arm and left shoulder were injured. Taking a shower with those wounds must be tricky.
And she was right. Inside the bathroom, Everett was moving carefully, trying to clean himself without aggravating the pain. Every little movement sent a sting through his arm.
Still, he couldn’t stand going another moment feeling grimy. The wound wasn’t fully healed, but as long as he didn’t move too much, it wouldn’t tear open—just ache a bit.
If only she’d offer to help him clean up...
The thought made him sigh. He might’ve managed to keep her physically here, but could he keep her heart?
Her heart was probably still with Alexander.
Meanwhile, Aurora stood up... then sat back down again. She was stuck.
Should she check on him? Could she really just barge in like that?
What would he think? That she’d lost her mind—or worse, that she actually had feelings for him?
Still, if Everett was managing to shower, then his injury probably wasn’t too serious, right?
Just as she was debating with herself for the tenth time, the bathroom door opened.
Everett stepped out in loungewear, calm and composed. He’d just showered, but his face was still pale.
"Is your wound really okay?" she asked.
"What do you mean by ’okay’?" Everett’s hair was still dripping. "Every time I move, it hurts. So... Miss Aurora, would you mind drying my hair for me?"
He sat down casually, water droplets sliding down his freshly-washed face.
"I... I can." Aurora jumped up.
She grabbed the towel she’d used earlier, but since it was half-damp, she swapped it for a fresh, dry one.
As she stood behind him, it felt... surreal.
She didn’t want to get close to him. She didn’t want to be involved with him.
And yet here she was—still here, agreeing to dry his hair.
What was wrong with her?
Forget it. Just a moment of weakness. Once she left, it wouldn’t matter anymore.
She carefully began toweling off his hair. Her gentle movements made the corners of his lips lift slightly.
This moment—this warmth, this quiet—he wished it could last.
If time could freeze right here, he told himself, maybe they really could grow old together.
Forget everything else.
Aurora worked carefully, drying about two-thirds of his hair.
"Do you want me to use the hairdryer? It’s kind of uncomfortable having wet hair in this weather," she asked softly.
"No. I don’t like hairdryers," Everett replied flatly.
Use a dryer? Sure, it’d be faster. But what would be the rush?