Chapter 188: Save Your Breath

I looked out the window and whispered,

"It seems like it’s about to rain,"

"The rainy season is nearing its end." Reid said. "So it’s probably going to be a huge storm."

"Hm," I responded, looking at the dark sky as lightning struck behind the clouds. A huge storm indeed.

​Twenty minutes later, the car pulled into the quiet garage.

The delivery driver arrived with our food at the penthouse main lobby just as soon as we stepped out of the private elevator.

Reid grabbed the heavy, steaming foil containers of hot baked lasagna and garlic bread, holding my elbow with his free hand to steady me as we walked through our front door.

​The apartment was dark and quiet, a peaceful refuge from the storm waiting for us outside these walls.

​"Sit," Reid ordered gently, setting the food down on the dining counter and turning to pull off my coat before I could even reach for the zipper.

He worked carefully, easing the thick fabric off my shoulders so as not to tug on my sore hips or pull at the adhesive patches hiding my neck.

​"Reid, I can take off my own coat," I murmured, though I didn’t push his hands away.

​"I know you can," he rasped, pressing a quick, firm kiss against my temple before stepping toward the master bathroom. "Eat a few bites while it’s hot. I’m drawing the bath."

​I sat at the counter, the rich scent of melted cheese, marinara, and garlic filling the air.

My stomach churned slightly at first, but after taking a careful, small bite, the warm food settled comfortably in my chest, easing the hollow ache that had been lingering since our confrontation at the clinic.

The lasagna wasn’t as great as Marinas, but it was still alright.

​From the bathroom, the sound of rushing hot water echoed through the suite.

A few minutes later, Reid walked back out, steam curling off his shoulders as he wiped his hands on a towel. He saw the half-empty container of lasagna in front of me and approved with a sharp, satisfied nod.

​"Bath’s ready," Reid murmured, leaning against the counter beside me and tossing the towel aside. He glanced down at the food, then at my face. "You done eating, Cap, or do you want a few more bites while the water cools down a bit?"

​"I’m almost done," I rasped, taking another small forkful of the hot lasagna. The warm food was doing wonders for the hollow ache in my stomach, easing the lingering nausea from earlier. "Sit down and eat yours before it gets cold."

​Reid didn’t need to be told twice. He pulled up the stool right next to mine, opening his own container and digging in with the ravenous appetite of an Alpha who had just skated through three hours of brutal line drills.

We ate in a comfortable, grounding silence for a few minutes, the steady patter of the first rains of the season beginning to tap softly against the glass balcony doors.

​Once I set my fork down and pushed the container away, Reid finished his last bite and wiped his mouth with a napkin. He tossed our empty containers into the trash, then turned back to me, his grey eyes softening as his focus shifted entirely back to my posture.

​Without a word of warning, he stepped up behind my chair and slid his broad arms under my knees and lower back before I could even attempt to push myself up on my sore legs.

​"Reid—" I gasped softly, my hands instinctively flying up to clutch his shoulders as he lifted me effortlessly into his arms.

​"Save your breath," Reid growled gently, carrying me through the bedroom toward the steaming suite. "Nate said hot bath and zero exertion. I’m taking care of you."

​The bathroom was thick with warm, fragrant steam, cutting through the damp chill of the evening.

Reid set me down carefully on the cushioned bench beside the large marble tub, turning to test the water temperature one last time with his wrist.

​I sat there, watching his broad back—the sharp flare of his shoulders beneath his grey hoodie, and the fierce, unyielding devotion in every single move he made. My hips still throbbed with a quiet ache, and my mind was still fighting the storm of what lay ahead, but standing in his shadow, the weight felt manageable.

​"Reid," I rasped out softly into the quiet, steamy room.

​He turned around instantly, his grey eyes locking onto mine. "Yeah?"

​"Get in with me," I whispered.

Reid went completely still, his grey eyes widening for a fraction of a second before darkening into something deep, intense, and fiercely protective.

He didn’t say a word. He just reached down, grabbed the hem of his grey hoodie, and pulled it over his head in one smooth motion, tossing it onto the vanity chair alongside his sweatpants.

​He stepped over to the bench where I sat, his large, warm hands reaching down to gently peel the high collar of my athletic shirt away from my skin. His fingers were remarkably gentle as he unbuttoned the top, careful not to yank on the adhesive patches hidden beneath.

​"Let me," Reid rasped, his voice dropping into a low, rumbling murmur as he helped me out of my clothes, easing my sore arms out of the sleeves with extreme care.

​When he looked at my bare skin—at the pale curve of my shoulders and the faint, lingering bruises and bite marks on my body—his jaw clenched tight, a flash of raw guilt passing through his eyes before he quickly masked it.

He scooped his arms back under my knees and lower back, lifting me off the bench and carefully lowering both of us into the deep, steaming marble tub.

​The hot water hit my sore muscles like an immediate wave of relief. A quiet, shuddering exhale escaped my lips as my back sank against Reid’s broad chest, his thick arms wrapping securely around my waist beneath the water to keep me anchored against him.