That was when I spotted the shower in the bathroom off his bedroom. He wouldn’t mind. In fact, he’d probably want me to. His final words before heading out to get food were, “Make yourself at home.”
And still, it felt weird stripping off my clothes and getting in someone else’s shower naked. Not just someone else, but a man who sent sparks shooting through my body every time he touched me…or even looked at me. When he ran that wet wash cloth over my face and lips, there had been such a gentleness to it, like he was worshiping me.
But as soon as the warm water hit my body, I didn’t care whose shower I was in. It washed over me, removing the last remaining traces of my life on that compound in Nevada.The mandatory morning study sessions, the constant stream of chores, the judgy looks at almost everything we did or said…all gone.
I was free. Finally free, after a lifetime of dreaming about it.
But something else occurred to me as I stepped out of the shower and dried off. I was in the cabin of the most handsome man I’d ever seen. He was straight out of a dream. He was the hero I’d imagined would rescue me someday. Even if it hadn’t happened the way I pictured, I was here now, ready to start my life with him.
He made it clear that he’d never agreed to bring me tacos and chips and salsa, let alone marry me. But I saw the way he looked at me. He felt this too. I didn’t know what “this” was, but it was the most overpowering feeling I’d ever had. Every cell in my being buzzed.
After wrapping the towel around my body, I looked down at the floor. My clothes were in a heap. Now that I was clean, I saw how dingy and dusty they were—covered in dirt not just from the past two days of travel, but from being worn for two weeks before I left my family and friends and the only life I’d ever known.
I couldn’t put that back on. It was a symbol of my old life. But my suitcase was full of clothes like this, and I didn’t want to wear them anymore. I’d take anything over clothes from my old life.
I eyed the door to the bedroom. Logan had to have a closet full of clothes. He’d completely understand if I wore something of his, right?
I nudged open the bathroom door and listened. No sounds coming from outside the bedroom. He was still gone. I had time.
I rushed across the room to the door I’d seen next to the dresser. I grabbed one of the gigantic T-shirts, let the towel fall to my feet, and threw it on. Once the T-shirt was in place, I eyed the rest of his closet.
Shorts. He had to have a pair that would fit. Maybe one with a stretchy elastic waistband. It wasn’t like I was tiny. In fact, like my sisters, I developed curves pretty early, and they just kept growing. But no, every single pair of shorts had a button.
Click.
There it was—the unmistakable sound of the gigantic cabin door opening. I froze and looked down. I was covered. The T-shirt fell past my knees, so it wasn’t like I was standing here naked. But without panties on, I felt that way.
Still, I may as well cut my losses. I snatched up the towel and rushed back to the bathroom, hanging it on a hook and piling my clothes in a neat bundle on top of a wicker hamper.
“Hello?” his deep voice called out.
He had no idea where I was. Maybe he thought I’d left. Just headed out the front door and kept walking.
A second “hello,” this one much more frantic.
I rushed out of the bathroom and toward the door, shouting, “In here.”
I barely spoke those two words before the bedroom door burst open. He stood there, a gigantic paper sack in one arm and a plastic bag dangling off the other.
“I took a shower,” I said.
He was staring at me like he’d never seen a woman before. I fought the urge to look down and make sure the shirt covered everything. Maybe I’d misjudged. I bent my knees slightly and felt the fabric sweep across them. Definitely covered.
“My clothes are dirty. In fact, I’m thinking about throwing them away.” I hesitated, then added, “If you don’t mind me wearing yours until I get something.”
I shrugged, and now I glanced down before returning my attention to his face. I couldn’t stop worrying about whether I had enough skin covered, no matter how hard I tried.
He didn’t say anything right away, just kept looking at me like he couldn’t decide what surprised him more—me being in his shirt, or the fact that I clearly had no intention of taking it off. Finally, he shook his head with a huff of laughter and stepped aside, nodding toward the kitchen.
“I, uh…got dinner,” he said. “Tacos, chips, and salsa like I promised. Apparently.”
I smiled, but there was something different about it. Something shy and a little wicked, like the kind of girl I’d never been allowed to be.
He cleared his throat and stepped deeper into the room. “I wasn’t sure if you drink. You might not. But I bought tequila and margarita mix. Then I second-guessed myself and stopped by the convenience store, buying every kind of drink I could find. There’s sparkling water, juice, even some kind of kombucha thing I can’t pronounce.”
I stared at him. “You didn’t have to do all that.”
“I know, but I wanted to.”
