Chapter 3: Evidence of Devotion
Just a tiny move from me and he’s already unraveling.
I grabbed his hand and scolded, "Don’t hold back anymore. I’m your wife—it’s my job to help you out."
I tried to sound stern, but my voice came out a little breathless. My fingers threaded through his, warm and sure.
Mason said, enunciating every word, "Do you know what my problem is?"
His voice was rough and low, making my toes curl into the carpet. I watched the muscle in his jaw twitch, and my heart skipped a beat.
I shyly tapped his chest, a playful spark in my eyes.
You troublemaker—do you really want me to say it out loud?
My cheeks burned, but I couldn’t resist. The tension between us was electric, and I knew he felt it too.
Then I reached over and answered him the only way I could—without words.
A muffled groan escaped him, his face flushed pink like he’d just finished a run, and he pushed me away. "What are you doing?!"
He stumbled back, nearly tripping over his own feet. I barely managed not to laugh—he was always so put-together, but I could undo him with a single touch.
I replied matter-of-factly, "Helping you solve your problem!"
I gave him my most innocent look, but the fire in his eyes said he wasn’t fooled. He was losing his grip, and I was loving every second of it.
In the end, Mason still didn’t let me help.
He ran off to take a cold shower.
I leaned against the wall, listening to the water pounding in the bathroom, staring at his blurry silhouette through the frosted glass.
The steam made everything look dreamlike, but I could still trace the outline of his body. My heart hammered, wild and desperate.
My chest felt like it was vibrating with need.
I couldn’t help but call out, "Babe, do you want me to help you?"
He shot back, voice firm, "No need."
But I pretended not to hear.
My hands had a mind of their own.
I just couldn’t resist turning the doorknob.
"Huh? The water’s so loud, I can’t hear you. I’m coming in!"
I called out, my voice all fake innocence as I pushed the door open, steam billowing out like a special effect.
The second I opened the bathroom door, he snatched a towel and wrapped it around his waist, moving so fast I almost lost it laughing. His face was beet red, but his eyes were sharp, almost daring me.
I swallowed hard.
The cold white light made his body look even more unreal—broad shoulders, trim waist, muscles that looked like they belonged on a fitness influencer, and skin so pale it almost glowed.
And his chest was actually... pink. Like, really pink.
Wow.
How did I get this lucky in my last life?
I really want a taste.
A big, delicious taste.
My mouth went dry, and I had to clench my fists to keep from reaching out. Every inch of him looked like he’d just stepped out of a Calvin Klein ad.
Mason glared at me. "Get out."
His voice was low, almost a growl. But I noticed his hands trembling ever so slightly.
I looked away, pretending to pout. "No."
I leaned against the doorframe, determined to hold my ground. This was a battle of wills, and I wasn’t backing down.
He looked almost amused, too tired to argue, and turned to leave.
His lips twitched like he was fighting a smile. For a second, I thought he might actually laugh. Instead, he just shook his head and tried to slip past me.
But the bathroom door was narrow, and I was blocking the only exit.
If he wanted out, he’d have to brush right past me.
As he tried, I stuck out my leg and pressed it against the glass door, blocking him with my thigh.