Well, yesterday went well.

I woke slowly, the kind of deep, satisfied sleep that left my body heavy and my mind still floating. The room was quiet except for the distant sound of running water. I blinked, turning my head toward the en-suite bathroom. The door was slightly ajar, steam curling out like an invitation.

Mateo was in the shower.

Through the frosted glass, I could see the outline of his tall, powerful frame - broad shoulders, the defined lines of his back and arms as water cascaded over him. He looked like something carved from stone, every muscle shifting as he rinsed his hair. My mouth went dry.

He...