Page 62 of Thirsty Bodyguard Summer

Then he eased out and helped me down from the counter.

My knees wobbled, and Shane caught my waist with both hands.

“You can laugh,” I said.

“I’m trying to stay alive.”

“That’s wise.”

He retrieved a warm washcloth from the bathroom. The aftercare was quicker than Friday, but he still cleaned me gently before handing me my underwear.

I pulled on my underwear, then found two cold electrolyte bottles while he dressed from the waist down.

Shane took one and drank half of it.

I drank enough to stop my pulse from sounding in my ears.

He touched my hip. “We’re still talking after the concert.”

“That wasn’t a question.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be.”

I pulled on my trousers. “We’re still talking.”

He released a slow breath.

I fastened my bra and reached for the dark-navy top.

Shane stepped behind me and smoothed my hair away from the neckline after I pulled it on.

“You’re sure you want to go back out there?” he asked.

“I’m sure.”

“You don’t have to prove anything by taking the detail back.”

“I’m not proving anything. My break is over, and I’m ready to take the detail back.”

He nodded. “Then I follow your lead.”

“You always say that when I’m not wearing the earpiece.”

“I’ve followed it while you were wearing one.”

“You negotiated first.”

“I’m growing.”

I put on my shoes, straightened my clothes in the mirror, and secured my hair again.

I unlocked the door.

The relief agent stood exactly where I’d left him.

“Status?” I asked.

“The corridor is clear. Rafi remains at stage access. No confirmation from the media roster yet.”