The garage actually had its own shower facilities.
Before this, whenever Stella and Joshua finished a long day of work, they would both clean up and change right there at the shop.
But Joshua had pointed out that since he just incapacitated an entire gang, those thugs might wake up and call for reinforcements.
He didn't want his shower interrupted by a second wave of street trash.
Stella couldn't exactly argue with his logic.
So, he asked for her address, got in his car, and drove straight to her house.
At first, she didn't think anything of it.
But now, listening to the rushing water echoing from her own bathroom, it finally hit her.
As a mere "acquaintance" she had formally known for barely a few days, bringing a man to her home to shower was incredibly intimate.
She was naturally defenseless around him, completely forgetting that their relationship was no longer what it used to be.
But he was already here; panicking now was useless.
Stella wasn't worried he would try anything inappropriate. She knew Joshua wasn't the type to force himself on anyone.
As her thoughts spun, the sound of the water slowly faded.
A few minutes later, she heard the bathroom door click open.
Stella looked up just as he walked out. He was dressed in a plush, snow-white bathrobe, casually towel-drying his damp hair.
He hadn't made a show of walking out in just a towel. He was wrapped up securely, showing zero intention of trying to seduce her.
And yet, water droplets slid down the ends of his hair, tracing a path down his partially exposed, sculpted chest. It was an intoxicating mix of restraint and raw allure.
No one knew better than Stella just how flawlessly built Joshua's body was.
For some reason, she felt her throat go completely dry.
Oblivious to her internal crisis, Joshua spoke calmly. "My clothes are ruined. I can't put them back on.
Do you have any men's clothes I could borrow for now?"

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