Page 62 of Say You'll Stay

“We’re all a mess. It’s not just you. I can smell myself and I can absolutely smell this baby. Seedy underbelly or not, I’m grateful we’re here and have a chance to get clean.”

“Doesn’t mean we’re staying, though, right?” he asks, quietly. “Feels wrong. Can’t put my finger on it.”

“It doesn’t mean we’re staying. We’ll leave soon as we get some rest. Hopefully, they’ll point us in the right direction so we aren’t stuck out there again wandering aimlessly.”

“If they let us leave.”

“This isn’t the Hotel California. We can check out any time we want or we’d be locked up right now.”

He only grunts in agreement, pacing the room and peering out the windows. “You go on and shower first.”

“So you’re agreeing that I smell?”

His mouth drops open a fraction. “Nah. No. You don’t. You smell fine. Good. Baby smells fine, too. Like…you know, a baby.”

“Relax. I’m screwing with you. We reek, but thanks for saying we don’t.”

She washes Lucy first with water and soap from the sink and then leaves her swaddled in a fresh towel on the bath mat while she showers.

The hot water pelting her skin elicits a groan of pleasure and in that instant, she wonders if she’s being stupid to consider leaving a place that still offers this small luxury. Didn’t think she wasthatdirty until it begins to flake off her arms and then she balks in embarrassment, remembering how close she’d been to Cole all this time and how he didn’t say a damn thing about it.

Maybe he’s gone nose blind, or he really is that kind to let it slide and never once ask for some space. He’s been getting a bit ripe himself lately, but she’s so smitten that she overlooks it, and feeling the safety that comes with being near him is worth it.

Almond body wash foams as she scrubs and the shampoo smells of vanilla. It’s not until she’s washed her hair twice that her thoughts stray to how badly she wishes he were in this shower with her.

Her hands begin to stray as she wonders what it might be like to have him here.

She travels across the swell of her sore breasts, down her stomach, and hesitantly between her legs. It’s been months since she last touched herself, way before Lucy was born, and a part of her is scared to explore if anything has changed.

She’s a stranger to her own body at this point. The unknown keeps her fingers above where she wants them.

If Cole were here, would he touch her?

Sex isn’t an option yet, but she wants so badly to be closer to him that she burns for it.

Self doubt keeps her quiet. How could he want her like that after what he’s seen? How he found them? Their first meeting hadn’t left much to the imagination. He’s never made an overt move, but there are moments that make her wonder if he feelsthe same way, and if he, like her, is just terrible at showing it.

There were a few times at the cottage when he’d been in the bathroom longer than usual…that one time at the nursing home when he showered…and she wondered if he might have touched himself and thought of her.

She’s no one’s fantasy, but if she could be anyone’s, then she’d hope to be his.

There’s nothing stopping her mind from running wild. Instead of dwelling on her doubts, she imagines him behind her, his thick cock against her ass and her body bracketed in those wide shoulders, one hand traveling down between her thighs.

Her own hand takes his place, ghosting across clean skin to rub where she’s already swelling in anticipation. Doesn’t linger yet. He’d keep going, tracing her heat and teasing her entrance.

So far, everything feels familiar. The bleeding has stopped, and the pain is gone. Mostly. Maybe she’s not damaged beyond repair after all.

‘This kid’s gonna ruin the only thing you got going for you.’

She heard it enough during her pregnancy to start believing it might be true.

Emboldened, she goes a little further, bracing one leg on the edge of the tub and a hand on the wall. Imagines him stroking her tenderly, begging permission to go deeper and her body responds with a flush of wetness that meets her fingers.

Can’t expect him to touch her if she can’t even touch herself. She needs to check that she’s not completely different now, so she can feel more confident going into this with him later. If it ever goes that far.

She’s so worked up that her pulse throbs against the padsof her fingers, but the fear of finding something wrong makes her hesitate. Quickly, before she can overthink it, the tip of her finger slips inside. So far, so good, can barely feel it.

Oh god, she thinks in horror, is she numb? Are her nerves dead? What if she can’t feel him at all when they finally get there?

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