Page 39 of Same Difference
“I…” She swallowed audibly. “I have to get ready for bed still.”
“I can wait.”
“Oh.” Feeling awkward, she told him, “I have to wash my make-up off.”
“Take your time.”
Here was the thing. She’d never let him see her without make-up before. She’d damaged her skin and slept in full make-up just in case he saw her early in the morning. She only took it off when he was at work, or she was right out of the shower. Why? Because she had wanted him to be attracted to her, and it was clear he already wasn’t, so she didn’t want to make it worse with her bare face.
But what was the harm now?
“You’ve never seen me without make-up,” she pointed out.
He frowned. “I haven’t?”
“No. I made sure of it.”
“You hid.”
She nodded. “I guess we were both guilty of not being ourselves.”
Nathan scratched the back of his neck and approached, offered his hand, and helped her out of the deep comfort of that recliner. “Go get ready for bed. You don’t have to hide anything now.”
“Do you know how much my skin broke out because I was sleeping in make-up?”
He snorted and sank into the recliner as she headed for the water jug near the kitchen sink. “That was your decision.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered. She’d bought the big water jugs that had the push button on the side, settled directly over the sink. She busied herself with washing her face and brushing her teeth. She put her hair up into a messy bun and put on her moisturizers that she’d lined up along the back of the counter. Face tingling and cold from the skin products, she made her way to her duffel bag and pulled out a pair of clean sweatpants, and one of her oversized sleep shirts.
She let off a little gasp as she realized the shirt was one of Nathan’s. “Here,” she said, making her way to him, with the shirt offered in her outstretched hand.
“I gave that to you.”
“For rags. You gave it to me when I asked about dusting the furniture with polish. You didn’t give it to me to sleep in. I just…” She shook her head hard, embarrassed. “I don’t know why I put it in my bag like that.”
He didn’t take the T-shirt. Instead, he searched her face. His eyes were still so bright, like his animal was ramped up. They had barely faded to brown all night. “I want you to keep it.”
“I’ll use it for a rag in here to clean.”
“No,” he gritted out. “You’ll wear it. That’s why you kept it. You like wearing big T-shirts to sleep in. You won’t use it as a rag.”
Her heart was pounding so hard, and she just knew he was going to hear it. Mortified, she clutched the shirt to her chest. It smelled like his cologne. “You can’t tell me what to do anymore.”
“I never could tell you what to do,” he said.
Delta pursed her lips and made her way to her duffel bag again. Hesitating, she shoved his shirt back into the side pocket of it and pulled out another. This one was hers, and was tighter, but it would work for tonight.
A soft rumble came from the corner where he sat, and she twisted around just enough to look at his face. He was leaning forward now, his elbows on his knees, his gold eyes steady on her. He didn’t know it yet, but she was going to find a way to sneak his T-shirt into his truck soon. She didn’t have a right to his things. He would have another mate someday, and so would she.
There was no point in holding onto anything that wasn’t hers. That was an unfortunate lesson she’d learned the hard way.
“Close your eyes,” she said softly as she prepared to remove her lace top.
“I can already see your bra underneath,” he pointed out.
“It’s a crop top, not a bra.”
“I have seen you Change before,” he countered.
