The summer heat was merciless. The air hung thick and heavy, clinging to your skin like a second layer. Sweat trickled down your temples, a constant reminder of the sun’s relentless assault. You groaned, raising an arm to shield your eyes.

Dragging yourself up the steps to your shared apartment, you fished the keys from your pocket and let yourself inside.

You’d hoped for some relief—a draft, maybe. Instead, the stagnant air felt just as oppressive as the streets outside. The electricity had been cut, leaving everyone at the mercy of the heat.

Frowning, you noticed how eerily quiet it was. Usually, someone was around—Nina dropping off packages, Worick entertaining one of his clients, or Nicolas working out in his makeshift bedroom.

“Anyone home?” you called, scanning the small space for signs of life.

“In here,” a familiar voice answered. Worick.

Following the sound, you stopped in front of the bathroom. Your brow furrowed. You were about to turn and leave, assuming he had company, when his voice pulled you back.

“It’s just me and Nic, doll. No need to run off.” There was amusement laced in his tone, the kind that always put you on edge. “Come on in—the door’s open.”

Hesitation prickled at you, but curiosity won out. Twisting the doorknob, you stepped inside—and immediately wished you hadn’t.

There they were.

Both Nicolas and Worick, crammed into the bathtub, soaking in what little water they had to stave off the heat. Their broad frames nearly filled the entire space, muscle on muscle, like some absurd Renaissance painting come to life. Nicolas rested his arms along the tub’s edge, head tilted back, eyes closed, utterly unbothered. And Worick? He was grinning like the devil himself.

“There’s room for one more,” he said, patting the water invitingly. “Don’t be shy.”

The heat was bad—but was it this bad?