If I wasn’t already so traumatized by the rest of it, I might've had the luxury of embarrassment over the fact that my unmentionables were on clear display – and in imminent danger of being stomped.
But now?Well, let's just say, trampled undies were the least of my worries.
The truth was, I had no idea what to do.
It was the middle of the night, and by now, I was pretty sure I didn't belong here. Ifhebelonged here, I might be arrested.And if he didn't belong here?Well, that was infinitely worse, wasn't it?
Just then, shampoo slid into my eyes, making them sting like a mother-you-know-what. With a stifled curse, I plunged my head back under the steaming water and tried to rinse the suds first from my face and then from my long, dark hair – all without using my hands, because the way I saw it, keeping my goodies covered was infinitely more important.
Stinging or not, I kept my eyes partially open, keeping a watch on my new bathroom buddy.
Hewasn'tleaving.
But he wasn't moving toward me either.That was good, right?
Still, as I squinted at his silhouette, I couldn’t help but wonder just how much trouble I was in.
A lot?
Probably.
The whole thing was beyond maddening, and not only because I was naked with a stranger. Once upon a time, this property – bathroom included – had belonged tomyfamily – and to me too, in a roundabout way.
Not anymore.
Or at least, not according to the "sold" sign I'd spotted earlier in the front yard.
If that sign meant what I thought it meant, I was definitely trespassing. But in my own defense, that hadn't been part of the plan.
I wasn't the trespassing type.When it came to laws and what-not, I was a real stickler. Cripes, I didn't even jaywalk or drive above the speed limit.
And why?It was because every time I did, it came back to bite me on the butt. Likewhen, you ask? Well, like now, actually.
As far as the house itself, it was old, massive, and depressingly vacant – a Victorian beauty that had seen better days.
Early this morning, I'd arrived as planned, only to find the house mostly empty, much like my bank account, thanks to Jason, my no-good, deadbeat cousin.
But forget Jason.
In the bathroom, the stranger still hadn't budged.
By now, I was officially clean and rinsed. And yet, for some inexplicable reason, I dreaded the thought of turning off the water, just like I dreaded the thought of facing him, whoever he was.
His voice, cool and conversational, carried over the sounds of the running water. "So, do you come here often?"
It was either a joke or the lamest pickup line ever. Either way, I wasn't in the mood. "I don't know," I muttered. "Do you?"
"I willnow," he said.
I gave a soggy blink. "What?"
"I didn't realize it would be so interesting."
Interesting?Well, that was one way to put it.
When I made no reply, the guy spoke again. "Three minutes."
"What?"
