Page 57 of Little Sunshine

Whoa.

Once I did, my body relaxed for the first time in… forever. Powerful jets worked at my aching, stiff muscles. The pelting heat worsened the burning on my skin, but the way it seeped into my bones was worth the pain.

When I was in danger of falling asleep and drowning like Ash had joked, I wiped the water from my eyes and looked for soap. There was a built-in shelf stocked with men’s personal care items. Minimalist black labels marked beard conditioner, sandalwood-and-whiskey body wash, and the like.

On the shelf below, though, was a line of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash from an upscale brand whose name I couldn’t pronounce.

I sneered at the items, my brain briefly wondering if they belonged to Vera. But it was just a quick thought because I was too tired and the shower felt too good for me to care.

It was none of my business.

I was just his temporary housekeeper.

Since smelling like his girlfriend would be awkward but smelling like him was awkward and intimate, I used as little of the products as I could get away with. Even still, the smell of honey and vanilla filled the enclosed space.

I hated to admit it, but it was incredible.

I turned off the water and climbed out, wrapping my hair and body in plush towels. I used the packaged toothbrush on the counter, but I steered clear of the hairbrush sitting next to it.

Ash’s hair was cut close to his head, so it was a safe bet it wasn’t his. The idea of sharing anyone’s brush grossed me out. Using a mystery woman’s was totally not happening.

My long hair would knot and tangle to the point it’d take me forever to fix, but I would just deal with that.

Just like I would have to take whatever pajamas Ash had mentioned. It wasn’t like I could sleep in my dirty clothes. Or out of them, for that matter.

If using his soap had been too intimate, sleeping with my naked bits all over his bed was definitely off the table.

When I returned to the room and picked up the black set, I immediately dropped the towel, no longer hesitant to wear them.

For one thing, they were insanely soft. Like baby angel wings had been woven together with clouds to make pajamas capable of easing someone to sleep just by wearing them.

For another, tags still hung from the label.

They still may have belonged to someone else, but they hadn’t been worn, so whatever.

I could deal with that.

I got dressed before forcing myself back to the bathroom to hang the towels so they didn’t make the room musky—a scent that lingered. When I stepped into the bedroom, I froze, tightness settling deep in my chest.

It was far from a cramped room, but it was unfamiliar and dark.

Too dark.

And quiet.

Too quiet.

There was no light pollution. No sounds of traffic. No drunk neighbors loudly fighting. Or drunk neighbors loudly fucking.

I flicked on the bathroom light and left the door ajar so some streamed out. The tightness in my chest instantly loosened, and I inhaled deeply. Not bothering to get under the covers, I flopped onto the bed, and my deep breath rushed out in an exhale that bordered on a moan of pleasure.

This doesn’t even feel real.

The cushy bed. The house.

The man.

Maybe I was hit harder than I thought, and I’m actually still unconscious in the alley.

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