I didn’t miss the way her eyes roamed over my body while I was changing my shirt though. So different from the first time she saw me… her little nose all scrunched with clear disgust. This time was different. This time I saw obvious interest, but she wasn’t planning on sharing details, judging by the blush marking her cheeks.
I instantly feel better. Of course, it might be the drugs talking, but my spirit is higher.
And I smell horrible. I’ve been sweating like a pig for the past hour and don’t even remember when the last time I showered was. I try to stand, and it works on the second attempt. The fever must have gone down, but so has my energy level. When I manage to walk to the bathroom, I hear the entrance door opening. A second later, the bathroom door bursts open.
“What do you think you are doing?” The blonde Valkyrie shoots daggers at me, her hand on her hip, strands of hair sticking out every direction from her ponytail.
“I stink.”
“And?” Her nostrils flare, and her gorgeous lip thin. “You decided to take a shower with an open wound on your back?”
“Rachel patched it up.” I protest weakly, knowing she’s right.
“Yeah, withdrydressings so you can, you know”—she points at her own back—“heal.”
“Man, I need a shower. I haven’t taken one for a couple of days; the shift was crazy.” Between the huge fire, saving those little people, and being short on staff, I barely had time to drink, let alone to take care of personal hygiene.
She lets out the cutest sound I’ve ever heard—one that reminds me of a Chihuahua growling—and walks inside the bathroom. The space turns tiny in an instant. I mean, the bathroom is small, and when it’s just me here, I have enough space to comfortably move around, but with her here, it’s not enough.
“Take your shirt off,” she orders as she dives under the sink. She feels awfully comfortable around here for a guest, and oddly enough, I don’t mind it one bit.
I obey like the good boy I am—even if it causes me pain to do as I’m told—and stand in front of her in nothing but my sweats, praying nothing shouldarise. It would be on full display in these.
While I’m struggling with my internal turmoil, she runs some water, wets the washcloth, and offers it to me with her outstretched arm. “Here, you can use this.”
“For what?” I blink at the tiny cloth.
“For cleaning yourself.” She shakes it.
“How can I clean myself with this thing?”
She rolls her eyes and presses the cloth to my chest.
And freezes. I do too. I don’t think either of us expected the gesture.
I can feel her hand pressed to my skin even through the wet material. My eyes dip to her face, then lower. Her slender throat bobs in a rough swallow. She wets her lips, and I take a deep breath, calling for the pain in my back to prevent me from showing what she does to me. I behave like a wild animal around her, with no self-control whatsoever.
She clears her throat. “You can wipe yourself in certain places.” She moves the cloth around, grazing the tips of her fingers along my skin. “Like that.” She presses the material to my chest, and I cover her hand with mine, thinking she wants me to take over.
She freezes again. A spark of fear in her eyes makes my heart sink to my stomach. I release her hand immediately, and she takes a step back.
“Sorry,” I mumble and lean for the dropped cloth. The unexpected move stretches the skin around my wound, making me groan.
“Are you okay?” She steps forward, residual fear still in her eyes.
“Yeah.” I cough, trying to mask another groan. “I’m fine.”
Her eyes soften, and she stretches her open palm toward me. “Give it to me.”
“Nah, I’m good.” I attempt to put on my best brave face, hoping it screams “stay away, I’m strong and capable.”
“Mark,” she says gently, and it breaks me. I pass the cloth to her with a sigh.
A small smile plays on her lips as she wets it again and goes around to my back. She presses the warm material to my skin and cleans it in gentle circles. After a moment, she wets the material and repeats. Her movements are so careful around the wound, a huge lump forms in my throat. I try to swallow it but can’t. It gets so big, it presses on the insides of my eyes, and I blink rapidly, trying to erase this weird, abnormal feeling.
I don’t remember when anyone was so gentle with me or wanted to take care of me like this. The women I’ve been with in the past wanted a fast and wild ride, and I was okay with it. I gave the same in return, never asking or offering more. Growing up with no affection, I didn’t even know it was an option. And here she is, a woman who doesn’t even really know me, taking care of me, asking for nothing in return.
I grab the sink, steading myself.
