My voice trembled and cut off. Adam watched me, his expression grim, but did not move, did not say a thing, waiting patiently for me to collect myself. I took a deep but shaky breath.

“He grabbed me by the hair, pulled me on my knees and made me go down on him.” Eat it, bitch, he’d slurred while I sobbed. Remembered fear closed my throat. I didn’t mention the scars on my scalp, where he had pulled so hard on my hair that he’d torn small chunks of it out. Hair wouldn’t grow on those spots for years afterward.

“I hope he got a long time in jail for that,” he said and my chest tightened.

I avoided his eyes. Here’s where Mia showed herself for the gutless wuss that she was. I swallowed. “He didn’t go to jail.”

Adam scowled. “What?”

I swallowed. “I didn’t press charges.”

Silence. He said nothing and didn’t even move. I knew what he was thinking. Because I thought it of myself every day. Coward. Mia is a coward.

“I know you are wondering why…”

He slowly shook his head. “You don’t have to tell me.”

But I couldn’t stop. It was like a valve had swung open on a dam. “I was too scared. He was popular and the quarterback on the football team. Everybody worshipped him. I didn’t think anyone would believe me.” My voice trailed off and I was disgusted by the whining in my own voice. I straightened.

He glanced away for a moment, as if trying to collect himself. “I understand.”

And I knew he did, given his history with being bullied.

I let out the breath I’d been holding. “Thank you for not judging me.”

His eyes fixed on mine again, holding my gaze as firmly as a physical grasp. “I don’t have the right to judge you.”

We sat in silence for a several long, weighted minutes. Then I cleared my throat, gathering courage. “Now will you tell me something?”

He took a deep breath, almost as if he was bracing himself. I had the sudden urge to scoot up next to him. I suppressed it.

“Who is Sabrina?”

He swallowed and looked away. “My sister.”

My jaw dropped. That was so not an answer I was expecting. And I couldn’t describe the reaction welling up inside of me. Surprise, relief, puzzlement. Who tattoos their sister’s name on their chest? “Oh. How cool. I didn’t know you have a sister.”

“Had,” he turned back to me, his face and voice utterly emotionless. “Had a sister. She’s dead.”

I sat back, the wind knocked out of me, shocked both by the news and his expressionless delivery of it. Before I could respond, he leaned forward, readying himself to get out. “Let’s go shower off and look at the stars from the top deck. And the view of the shoreline is great now that it’s dark.”

There was only one shower in the master bathroom and two of us. Adam grabbed two monogrammed terry bathrobes, handing one to me. “I’ll go shower in a guest bathroom.”

“You don’t have to,” I said in a shaky voice.

He froze and turned back to me.

“You could shower with me. I saw the place. It’s huge.”

His eyes lit up but I could tell he thought I was kidding. Likewise, the thought excited me, too. The image of spreading soap across his abs with my bare hands was making my heart pound a little harder.

“Emilia, if I shower with you we will never get up to the top deck.”

Instead of replying, I dropped my towel and then shucked off my wet swimsuit in two smooth, quick moves. Then I shot him a grin and backed into the bathroom. “You’re going to have to show me how this damn thing works anyway.”

A cold thrill thrummed in my throat as his hungry eyes traveled down my naked body. I felt daring, bold, empowered, desired.

By the time Adam took off his swim trunks, he was fully aroused. I tried not to look—much—but I have to admit that curiosity got the better of me. His body was beautiful, magnificent and—well, I tried not to let the size of him terrify me.

I backed into the hot spray. The shower had dual heads, one on each side, so we each got our own. And for the first few minutes, we stood on opposite sides of the shower, awkwardly cornering our own spray, warming up while cautiously watching the other.

I lathered my hair before offering the bottle to him. Once he reached for it, I poured shampoo into my own palm and then put it on top of his head, setting aside the bottle to lather his hair. He watched me with a longsuffering, tolerant expression, but his eyes were dark with desire. His slick, hot, naked body was only inches from mine and I shook with anticipation, with the blood pumping through my veins at five times its normal speed.