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Something of his? That was likely to smell like him? God, no.

But there really wasn’t much of a choice. “Yeah.”

“Alright, you hold this. I’ll go find you something.” He handed me the lamp and moved a couple feet away. Part of me wanted to follow so I could see more of the space, but I didn’t want to drop any more water all over so I stayed put as I heard him open and close a couple dresser drawers. “My pants will never fit you so you’re going commando on that front,” he informed me as he handed me a warm, dry shirt of some sort. “To your left,” he told me and I turned to look for a door.

And there was one.

That much was true.

What there wasn’t… was actual walls.

“Um, Shane…”

“Yeah?” he asked, having turned and started to walk away.

“Your bathroom has no walls.”

“Yeah, I haven’t gotten around to that yet.”

“I’m not getting changed in a room with no walls.” Or peeing for that matter, but I wasn’t about to say that.

“Turn off the lamp.”

“Ah, yeah, still not doing it.”

He turned back and I could just barely make out the smile he was giving me. “Alright,” he said, going somewhere and coming back a moment later with what looked like sheets. “It’s pitch black in here so I can’t hammer up any walls for you. But I can give you a small amount of privacy.” With that, he went ahead and hung the sheets. “Go ahead,” he said once he was done. “There are towels in the linen closet.”

“Wait,” I said, turning back with a smile. “You have a linen closet but no walls?”

“I needed somewhere to put the towels,” he shrugged as if that explained everything. Man logic.

“Okay then,” I said, going in and closing the door.

I put the lamp down on the sink vanity and the space was small enough to be completely washed in light when I turned the flame up. It was literally completely finished except for the walls. The floors were tiled in a deep gray with a matching grout. The sink was a deep and an unusual for a bathroom rectangle shape. I had a sneaking suspicion it was that way because he might have needed somewhere to throw blood-stained clothes while he showered before he brought them to the laundry. A toilet, well, was a toilet. The shower, though. Yeah. A part of me really wanted to step inside and warm up. It was deep set, the kind you walked into, not stepped into. There were three shower heads on the three full walls, tiled to match the floor.

I resisted the urge and went to the linen cabinet to grab a towel, using it to squeeze some of the excess water out of my hair before stripping out of my drenched clothes. I piled them up and tossed them into the shower, not knowing what else to do with them, then dried off my body. I reached for the shirt that Shane handed me and slid into the dark blue material with Chaz’s bar emblem on the front. Shane, being the giant wall of muscle he was, had clothes that, while I was tall, still swam on me. It landed maybe mid-thigh and made me hyper-aware of the fact that I no longer had panties on. But it was what it was. It was warm and dry and I would just make sure I didn’t flash him.

I hung up the towel on the edge of the linen cabinet door, grabbed the lamp, and headed out. Shane was rummaging around from the direction of the kitchen and I moved toward the noise to find him with a tiny LED camping lantern propped up on the counter as he piled what looked like half the contents of the fridge onto the counter.

“You cook?” I blurted out before I could stop myself.

“Hey, baby. Put that lantern up over here, would you?” he asked, gesturing toward the counter beside the stove. I did, then crossed my arms over my chest, feeling weird that I no longer had anywhere to put them. “I can throw some food together. Basic life skills, my mother called it when she herded us all into the kitchen to throw shit together until it tasted palatable. I can also do my own laundry and clean my house,” he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice.

“Miracle,” I acknowledged, knowing more than a fair share of grown ass men who couldn’t claim half as much.

“Here, you go here,” he said, turning to me suddenly and sinking his hands into my hips, hauling me up and placing me on the counter. “Keep me company while I chop.”

I carefully crossed my legs and, because his focus was elsewhere, took a good long look at him. He had changed too, but only into a pair of heavy sweatpants that he had slung dangerously low on his hips, showing me his broad back where I found a giant Mallick family coat of arms

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