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I’ll just have to be quick.
“I’m going to shower now,” I warn Aiden as I turn on the hot water.
“Sounds good.”
I reach for my shirt but hesitate before I pull it off over my head. “I’m going to undress.”
He laughs. “Yeah, kind of figured you would.”
“Well, just…you know, the way the mirror is hanging, if you walk on the left side of the bed, you’ll be able—”
“Maddie, just shower.”
I whip off my shirt and bra then push down my pants and panties before leaping into the shower and grabbing for some shampoo and soap. At once, I clean my hair and body, bathing with superhuman speed. I bang my elbow against the glass wall and curse. Aiden asks me if I’m all right, and his voice sounds suspiciously close. I cover all my private bits and scream at him that I’m fine.
Then I squeeze more body wash out onto my hand and lather up my legs and feet.
In total, I’m probably in there for three minutes tops. It’s pretty impressive right up until I cut the water, turn to step out, and realize I don’t have a towel.
I look around the bathroom in panic. There’s no linen closet, no drawers under the bathroom sink. This minimalism bullshit is for the birds.
I curse under my breath.
My skin blooms with goose bumps now that there’s no hot water pouring over me. I hop from one foot to the other, trying to stay warm as I survey every available nook and cranny of the bathroom.
I could step out and put on my dirty clothes, but the idea doesn’t sit well with me. They’re covered in desert dust and Gardetto crumbs.
The closet is back toward the bedroom, and there’s no way I can make it there without Aiden seeing me.
I let my forehead smack against the glass door and decide I’ll just stand here until Aiden falls asleep then I’ll walk out and get my clothes. Thirty seconds turns into a minute. It feels like I’ve been standing here all night, and I’m really shivering now. I don’t think I’ll last.
“Are you almost done? I want to shower after you.”
With a heavy groan, I reply, “Houston, we have a problem.”
He laughs from the other room. “What is it?”
“I forgot a towel.”
“No worries, I saw them in the closet. I’ll bring you one.”
I lift my head up off the glass, my eyes widening in panic. “Just throw it into the bathroom and I’ll scurry out and get it.”
“You seem to forget I’ve already seen you naked.”
“Yes, well let’s not make it a habit, shall we!?”
A second later, a rolled-up towel flies through the air and smacks against the bathroom mirror, knocking it off the wall. I watch in horror as it falls, hits the vanity, and then shatters into a million pieces on the floor.
Holy shit.
“Please tell me that didn’t just happen,” Aiden says.
Inhuman noises fall from my lips. I sound like a distressed animal.
“Did the glass break?” he asks, desperately clinging to a morsel of hope.
“Yes! Aiden! Why’d you do that?!”
“What? You didn’t want me to come in there, so I threw the towel just like you asked me to.”
“I didn’t mean to chuck it like that. You threw it like you were starting for the Yankees!”
“Sometimes I don’t know my own strength.”
“Now is not the time for jokes!”
I start to pace in the small confines of the shower. “I’m stuck! If I step out, I’m going to slice my foot open.”
Glass is everywhere. Eh-ver-ee-where.
“Okay, don’t do that. Just hang on.” His voice is growing louder and then he just appears in the doorway of the bathroom—OH HELLO SOME OF US ARE NAKED IN HERE!
I scream and crouch down on the floor of the shower with my arms wrapped around my knees. My hair hangs down like a curtain around me.
“Would you chill out? I’m not coming in here to ogle you. I’m trying to clean up this mess.”
“Good luck. You’ll have to go get a broom or something from the main house.” He turns to leave and I hurry to add, “But don’t tell anyone what it’s for! I don’t want Stephanie knowing about the mirror yet. I need to come up with a good excuse.”
“Right. Got it.”
Then he’s gone, and I realize after the fact that I should have asked him to (gently!) toss me the towel before he left. Now I’m stuck here, still naked, still cold, still royally annoyed to be in this situation.
It seems like Aiden’s gone for ages. I start to hum a song to myself to keep the psychosis at bay. I consider etching marks into the glass with my fingernail as a way to count my days in confinement.
Then, finally, he’s back.
He has a broom and a dustpan.
“Oh thank god. Where’d you find it?”
“Stephanie got it for me.”
