She hesitates, then lets her arms drop to her sides and leans back slightly under the spray of the shower, granting me access.
I pour the shampoo into my palm and step closer, close enough that I feel the warmth of her breath as I reach up and gently massage her scalp. My fingers move through her thick, wet hair, slow and careful, like she’s something precious, because she is.
She closes her eyes, and it’s quiet for a beat—just the water and the sound of my hands working through her hair.
I can’t stop thinking about it.
She’s letting me touch her. We’re here talking about men who touched her without consent, and she’s lettingmein. Letting me do this.
I rinse the soap from her hair and her body sways toward mine. “This feels nice.”
“Guess it’s another of those dating things, huh? Showering together?” I say, meeting her gaze through dripping strands of hair. She gives me a content smile, and before I can stop it, the question slips out. “Were you on a date with him tonight?”
She rolls her eyes. “No.”
I arch a brow.
“I wasn’t!” she insists. “He was the photographer at the show, and the whole group went out for a night at the club.”
Oh. So it wasn’t adate.
“When I saw you...” Her hands glide over my shoulders as she leans in. “Trust me, I didn’t even remember, let alone care, who I showed up with.”
I slide my hands down her sides until I grip her hips, holding her there.
“You let me kiss you tonight.”
She doesn’t look away. “I let you finger me on the dance floor too.”
“Yes.” I don’t think I’lleverforget that. “But you let mekissyou.”
Her lips part, her breath fanning over my damp skin. “I did.”
“Youlikeme.” I grin as joy takes over her face. “You’ve got a big ol’ crush on me, baby.”
“Shut up. You’re so corny.”
I step forward, forcing her back until her spine meets the wall. I cage her in, my arms braced on either side of her, my body so close that all I’d have to do is tilt my head and I’d be kissing her again.
When she looks up at me, lips kiss-bruised and glistening, I swallow hard. I could take her right here, make her fall apart all over again.
“But doyouhave a crush onme?” she asks, fingers toying with my hair.
I jerk back slightly as I notice the self-doubt in her eyes, then I pinch her chin and tilt her head up. “What’s that mean?”
“Nothing. It’s stupid.”
“No, it’s not, Charlotte. None of your fears or doubts orthoughts, even, are stupid. And if you share them with me, then I’ll know how to reassure you. How to make you feel safe again.” I hold my thumb on her chin. “Let’s not do this, okay? Shoving fears down and letting them fester.”
“It’s not a big deal. I just couldn’t help but notice...” She tries for a teasing voice. “Your ex-wife and I look a lot alike.”
“Oh. And you’re worried my attraction to you might not be aboutyou?”
“Maybe?” She laughs at herself. “I told you it’s stupid. You just have a type—it’s normal.”
“Notstupid.Neverstupid,” I reprimand, cupping her cheek. “And to answer your question, though you’re not the first person to point out the similarities between you and my ex, I have to say I just don’t...see it.”
“You don’tseeit?” Eyes wide, she points at her face. “We both have red hair, green eyes. We’re leggy, skinny, tall women.”