Kayden
I came out of the bathroom still towel-drying my hair, wearing nothing but a pair of loose trousers slung low on my hips. Steam rolled out behind me, warm and damp, and I rubbed the towel over my head as I walked into the hallway.
I hadn't expected to see anyone because Rhys had barely spoken more than three words to me since I moved in, so I assumed he would be hiding in his room or pretending I didn't exist.
But the moment I stepped toward the living room, his pine scent hit me.
Great, I thought. He was there.
I slowed my steps, my brows pulling together as I followed the smell around the corner. And there he was in the kitchen—with an apron around him.
Rhys stood in front of the stove, stirring a pot with absolute concentration, like the food might explode if he looked away for even half a second.
