Alexander's POV:

Anna hands me the last bowl.

I dry it slowly, watching her hands in the soapy water. The way her fingers work, efficient and careful.

'That night. Right here.'

Anthony stirs. Remembers. 'On the counter. Her legs around us. Her taste—'

My cock hardens.

I set the bowl aside. Reach for the towel hanging between us. Take her hands in mine. Wipe them dry, one finger at a time.

She looks up. "What are you doing?"

"Remembering." I ...