For a long, breathless second, neither of them moved.
Amara's hands were still hovering awkwardly in the air while Darien stood there with his damp shirts and pants. The liquid traced the sharp lines of his abdomen and ran down toward his thighs as he breathed.
Oh no. Oh no, what did she just do?
Her fingers twitched as if they wanted to curl back into her palms.
"I… I wasn't thinking," she blurted out. Her voice cracked embarrassingly. "I just want to help you with it and I didn't mean to…" Her words came out too fast, tumbling over each other until they collapsed into silence. She stared at the floor. "I'm sorry."
Darien didn't answer immediately. He let out a sigh, just once, and she heard the faintest scrape of his claws shifting back into place. It was so quiet that she wasn't sure if she imagined it.
When he finally spoke, his voice was low, as if he was trying not to startle her.
"It's ok. You didn't do anything wrong."
