HAZEL
The shower helped wash away the dirt and fear from the last two days, but I still had the same pair of pants I drove to Pelican Bay in with only a fresh shirt from Corbin. He'd left it on the counter in the bathroom, so I took it as a sign to wear it.
I'd been full of courage when I'd flipped the shirt on and taken a whiff of his detergent, which clung strongly onto the fibers. But now that I had to walk into the living room and see him while wearing the shirt, nerves prickled my skin. Maybe he didn't set it there for me.
Stop it, Hazel.
I had bigger things to worry about—like someone trying to kill me—but the shirt was the most pressing issue, so my brain found it the most time sensitive.
Corbin sat on the couch, the ugly floral pattern jarring against his natural good looks. H
