He turned and waved me into the shower with him. He backed up to give me room, but it was a shower stall--not much room to be had. The hot water beat down, soaking through my shirt. I leaned back into it, forgetting Rafe as I luxuriated in the feeling of hot, clean water. When I opened my eyes, he was watching me. Really watching me. I looked at the water pounding off his lean chest, trickling down to his soaked boxers, and…and I wasn't thinking it'd be nice to lean over and give him a chaste kiss. Really wasn't.
The narrator describes a moment of intimacy in a cramped shower stall with Rafe, where the warmth of the water transforms the situation into a comforting experience. As the hot water envelops them, the narrator momentarily forgets concerns and allows herself to indulge in the simple pleasure of the shower.
However, her tranquility is interrupted by Rafe's gaze, which ignites unexpected feelings. She becomes acutely aware of their proximity and the physicality of the moment, revealing a conflict between wanting to maintain a respectful distance and the temptation to act on her burgeoning attraction.
