"Just relax," he said, his breath hot against my ear. His hand slid to rest against my hip. He stayed bent over my shoulder, as if trying to see through the slats in the door, his breath ruffling my hair. When I shifted, he put his other hand on my other hip. I shifted again. "Stop squirming," he said. "I didn't wear my steel-toed boots." I stepped off his foot. "Sorry."