Page 43 of Under His Sheets
I stood and smiled at him, but he simply nodded and gestured for the women to walk ahead of him. I followed the group out of the parking lot, still feeling pretty dazed. Alonso had parked four blocks away, which was good in that we didn’t have to navigate the still gathered people in the square in front of the bar. The police were dispersing the crowd, but there were still a few folks chanting.
I was yawning by the time we got to Alonso’s car and didn’t move quick enough. Camille took shotgun, forcing me into the middle of the backseat between Sasha and Josette. I was too tired to think much about Camille’s hand on Alonso’s arm or his knee, but it did help when he caught my eye in the rearview mirror a couple of times.
We got to our complex and Camille invited us all up to their place.
“I need sleep, but thank you. I want to get out of these bloody clothes and go to bed.”
I got air kisses from the girls, who tried to fuss over me some more, but I insisted they go have fun with their new friend. I winked at them and went inside my place. All I had the energy to do was take ibuprofen and drink a glass of water before I stripped off my clothes, leaving them in the middle of the flatto wash the next day. I was headed into the bathroom when movement caught my eye on my back patio.
I jumped and nearly screamed before I realized it was Alonso.
I was too tired to even worry about only being in my boxers. I opened the door for him and he took me in his arms.
“I was so worried, amor.” He kissed me, and I was about to melt in his arms when I realized how gross I was.
“Let me shower, please. I’m covered in blood and who knows what else.”
He tilted his head and carefully lifted my hair off of my forehead. “You need to keep this dry,” he said. “Let me wash you.”
ELEVEN
After midnight Saturday,Castelldefels, Catalonia, Spain
I must have been too tired to argue because I found myself in the tiny shower, holding a towel over my face while Alonso carefully washed my hair, using the handheld nozzle to keep my cuts from getting wet. It helped to be able to hide my face, helped me not think about him seeing all of me. I’d only done this once before, with Rig. And directly after he and I had gotten out of the shower and were drying off, he’d mentioned us joining a gym together, or maybe going running more often.
Message received. Loud and clear.
Alonso’s first words after he finished with my hair?
“Let me in, amor. I want to take care of you.”
I did. And he did. He stripped down to his boxers and squeezed into the stall with me. I tried not to think about the fact that I was naked in front of him with the lights on. When I tried to protest, he shushed me. He washed me all over, and then, instead of turning it into an opportunity to grope me or make it sexual, he held me tight to him under the hot spray, keeping the wadded-up towel to my face so my cuts wouldn’t get wet.
“I hate that you got hurt,” he finally said, and I realized that this care session was as much about his needs as it was about mine.
“Did you like your song?” I asked him, moving the towel so I could peek at him.
“I loved my song,” he breathed, and his dark red lips split into a tender smile. “You sing so beautifully.”
“Well, thanks, but what are you doing here? I thought you’d gone home with Camille.” I wiggled my eyebrows, but that made me wince, and he rolled his eyes, shutting off the water. He reached out and grabbed my last two towels stacked on the shelf in the corner. “They had a bet going, you know. Who you’d like better.”
“You know who I like,” he said, his voice gravelly, and he wrapped me in a towel. “It would not have been a fair bet.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t know what you would do, remember? Maybe your cover was being a dude bro who was after the hot French chicks.”
He pulled me against him and grabbed my ass. “Is that why you sang for me? Trying to tip the scales in your favor?”
I gaped at him and swatted at his chest. “I’ll have you know they pushed me to go up there. It was all their idea.”
He cupped my jaw and kissed me gently. “But you chose Jeff Buckley.”
Okay, he had me there. “Did it work?”
“What do you think?” He kissed me again, but then he looked up at my forehead and frowned. “We need to get you to bed.”
I pulled back. Maybe the shower had doused his attraction after all.
“I’m fine.” I pulled the towel tighter around my chest and moved past him to the bedroom. My face was hot, my forehead stung, and what little bit of pride I had was wounded.
