I peer over my shoulder at him. “What are you doing?”
He reaches to the ledge beside the tub and grabs a bottle of shampoo from it, giving me a half-grin. “You need to wash your hair to feel clean and comfortable, and you aren’t doing it on your own without causing yourself unnecessary discomfort and potentially getting your stitches wet.”
Tears immediately well in my eyes, emotion clogging my throat. I have to turn away quickly before he sees me completely fall apart.
This is the Killian I know.
The one I remember.
Kind.
Thoughtful.
Caring.
Always dropping to his knees to give me everything and anything I ever wanted or needed—even when I didn’t ask for it.
I don’t know a version of this man who would do something that would make me leave like that.
My hot tears hit the water.
Hopefully, the steam rising from the surface will conceal them enough that he won’t notice. But knowing him, he will, no matter how hard I might try to hide them.
He does me the great kindness of not mentioning it as he grabs a cup from beside the sink. “Tilt your head back.”
I do as he asks, closing my eyes and letting it fall toward him.
Hot water cascades over my hair, shoulders, and into the tub. He repeats the process until my thick locks are thoroughly soaked, and my tears are mostly gone.
Silence lingers in the small space, the sole sound him lathering the shampoo in his large hands before he sinks his fingers into my hair and starts massaging my skull as he works it in.
“Oh, God…”
The moan slips from my lips before I can bite it back, and he immediately stills.
“Shit. I’m sorry. Did I hurt you? I know you hit your head. I wasn’t thinking. I?—”
“No!” I reach up, not even caring about the stab in my side with the movement, so I can wrap my hand around his wrist. “Keep going. I’m fine. It just…feels so good. The hot water and your hands…”
Killian was right—soaking in the near-scalding bath was exactly what I needed to ease all the aches and pains that were bordering on unbearable by the time we got up the mountain.
Slowly, his hands return to gentler movements, working in the shampoo.
All the tight muscles and bruised parts of me relax into the weightlessness of the water. Knowing he’s washing away the last remnants of that river and anything else that might have clung to my hair helps me take what feels like my first truly deep breath since the moment I woke in that hospital.
He urges my head back gently into the water to wash it, then resumes the same treatment with the conditioner, gliding his fingers through my hair to work out any snarls without tugging too hard.
Like it always has, those bubbles and the soft scent of honey and lavender help soothe more than merely my battered body.
It helps clear my head.
At least, somewhat.
That massive black hole still fills the space the last year should in my memory, but I’m slowly able to process everything that’s happened since Killian found me in the river.
All the conversations with the doctor, the sheriff, Raven, and Killian…
And one thing has become abundantly clear—I need answers.