It takes me another ten minutes just to pull the soft cotton shirt over my head.
My skin is still slightly damp from the bath, and my hands are being stubborn, missing the sleeve openings twice because my mind is still stuck on the hallway, stuck on the stairs, and stuck on the sudden, warm feel of Bael's lips against my bare shoulder.
When I finally look at myself in the mirror, the flush on my neck hasn't gone away. It just looks like it lives there now.
I take a deep breath, smoothing down the front of the clean loungewear, and look toward the bedroom door.
I turn the handle and step out into the hallway.
The walk down the stairs is slow, my stomach gives another low, impatient growl, reminding me that I haven't eaten a single thing since early this morning.
