Page 59 of Make Her Mine

But that means Harlow and I are going to spend time alone together. Just us. I don’t think we’ve ever done that. Not for hours anyway. Maybe five or ten minutes at the most. Except when we were out looking for Alex. Or sitting by his hospital bed.

Those were intense hours. Ones I’m sure neither of us want to repeat.

“Yeah,” I say casually. “I’m just gonna change clothes. Come on up and I’ll get you… stuff.”

“I don’t suppose you have any ponytail holders?” she asks, following me up the stairs.

I’m not sure what she wants to hear here. That I do because I’ve had women here before or that I don’t because I don’t date a lot.

“I think there are some in the second drawer in the bathroom,” I say.

“Okay,” she says noncommittally. “Are they Ginny’s?”

I stop outside the bathroom. “They might be.”

I watch her for a moment. Surely it doesn’t bother her to think about women I’ve dated in the past. Women who might’ve spent the night here.

Then she surprises me and says, “I’m going to pretend they are.”

“Jealous they might not be?” I ask.

“Worried about cooties,” she says.

I snort. “Washcloths are in the cupboard. New toothbrushes should be in the same drawer with the ponytail holders. There might be other useful things in there too.”

She tips her head, a tiny smile tugging at her lips. “Useful things like?”

“I think there are makeup wipes. Some bath salts. Tampons.”

Her eyebrows lift. “You have bath salts and tampons?”

“I have things that…people…have brought over that I haven’t thrown away. That drawer is kind of a catch-all. Feel free to dig through it.”

“Well, I don’t think I’ll be taking a bath. And I don’t need any tampons.”

“That could potentially be filed under TMI,” I say, but still have the urge to chuckle.

“If you were my boyfriend, you would totally know that,” she says lifting a shoulder.

“Good point. I’d also know what kind of bath salts you like.”

She wrinkles her nose. “I’m not really into baths. More of a shower girl.”

“Oh, that’s too bad. I do like baths, and I have an amazing tub. And if you were really my girlfriend, I’d make sure you liked them too.”

Why do I keep saying stuff like that? She’s not my girlfriend. We are not getting in that tub together.

Why don’t you just actually date?

My dad’s words come back to me in that moment.

Taking a bath together would be one thing that would definitely convince Harlow that dating me is a good idea.

“Gee, just one more reason we’re not a good match,” she says dryly. But her tone is less biting than usual.

“Yep. Guess so.” I pivot toward my room before I spend any further time thinking about her in my bathtub. With me. I really do like baths, but not solo ones. “Let me grab you a shirt.”

In my bedroom, I take a couple of deep breaths, then rummage in my drawer for one of my bigger shirts. Any of my shirts will be huge on her, but the bigger the better. I step back into the hallway with one of my Sapphire Falls football shirts, in part to annoy her. I toss it to her. “Here you go. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

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