Chapter 177: Hannah

The water was so hot it almost scalded my skin as I stepped into the shower, but I didn't mind; if anything, it soothed my sore muscles and tender flesh. I sighed, sliding the glass door shut, inhaling the steam and the scent of echinacea. I closed my eyes, letting the water wash away the day. It had been eventful, starting with a sweaty training session with Noah and followed by campaign work in my office. Noah had too much work to watch a movie and weather the storm with me? Yeah, well, I had work to do, too.

In reality, all my work that day had been a distraction—anything to avoid thinking about how he'd looked scurrying from the kitchen. The redness in his face, the bulge in his pants… it made me smirk and tremble simultaneously as I washed. For a moment, just a moment, I imagined his touch—his fingers grazing my skin, his breath on my neck. Our bodies pressed together under the water… I hated him, but I wanted him so badly I thought I might explode. How did that even make sense?

“Hannah? Are you in here?”

Suddenly, Noah's voice, floating through the steam, snapped my eyes open. Speak of the devil.

“I’m in the shower,” I called, massaging conditioner from my hair.

“Oh.” I saw his tall form pause in the doorway, then instantly turn away. He held something. “Sorry. I’ll go.”

“It’s fine. Wait there.” I sighed, turning off the water and sliding open the shower door. A puff of steam billowed out, and as it cleared, I saw Noah's green eyes quickly glance over my naked body before darting away.

As I grabbed my towel, I cooed, “We’ve seen each other naked hundreds of times. You don’t need to act so bashful, even if we are getting divorced.”

Noah said nothing, clenching his jaw.

I wrapped the plush white towel around myself and went to the sink to begin my skincare routine. “What did you need?” I asked, my eyes flickering to the small box in his hands reflected in the mirror.

He held it out. “I got something for you.”

Instantly, my hands fell to my sides, and I shot him a wary look. “This again?” I asked. “How many times do I have to tell you to stop trying to butter me up? It’s not going to work.”

Noah sighed and thrust the box forward. “Just open it, will you? It’s not like that.”

Frowning, I took the box and opened it. Inside was a brand-new pair of training sneakers in my size—a clean white color with soft pink accents, girly yet practical. “What’s this for?” I asked, lifting a shoe.

He shrugged, running a hand through his tousled dark hair. “I just noticed your shoes were looking a little beat up. If you want to train seriously, you should have good shoes; unless you’re trying to hurt yourself.”

“Oh. Well, thank you, Noah.” I walked to the doorway, still admiring the shoes. They were exactly my style, and I was excited to wear them—I just hated having to be wary, given his history of trying to win me over with gifts.