“Your mom was a shut-in? Your whole life?”
“Yeah, she was.” Homebody, agoraphobic, anxiety ridden. All of it applies.
“How does that work? How do you have a kid and not go anywhere?” His perfect forehead is
creased with confusion. I get it. Not a lot about the way I was raised makes sense. “Doctor’s
appointments and school plays and birthday parties. There's so much…I don’t understand. How…
what happened?”
His eyes are still tracing my body, but it doesn’t feel creepy or bad. Even when he tore…tore…
the dress from my body, I wasn’t afraid.
Shocked, amazed, shy, embarrassed, yes. But not afraid.
I’ve read books where a man is so overcome with desire he tears the clothes from his woman’s
body. It was hot. I wish my skin hadn’t been on fire. Maybe I could have appreciated the moment
more. Though, if my skin hadn’t been on fire, Zach never would have come near me. That thought
brings me crashing back to earth quickly.
I loosen the grip on my knees and swirl my fingers through the cool water. This is the deepest tub
I’ve ever been in, the water coming to the midline of my chest. Too bad I can’t enjoy it. I’d love the
chance to have a bubble bath in here…maybe with company. I should add that to my list.
“I don’t really know why she was that way. My dad passed away when I was little. Mom hired
drivers to take me to school. Mom was always…sensitive, so I learned to keep quiet. I spent a lot of
time watching tv. And as I got older, and I got more difficult, she would so get angry. So I didn’t do
any of those other things. I went to school, and I came home.”
He crosses his legs and leans on the edge of the tub, resting his tanned arm along the rim. “You’re
telling me that your very difficult mother would get mad at you for being difficult?”
That surprises a snort of laughter out of me. “Yeah. I guess I am. I never really thought of it like
that.”
“How did you think of it?”
I drop my chin on my knees. “Like most kids probably would. Like I should be quieter or easier. I
would do everything I could not to be a bother. I’d try and wear the clothes she bought me, but then
she’d be upset with me for being uncomfortable and needing treatment.”
He frowns, eyes tracing over my red skin like a caress. I swear it heats up again everywhere he
looks. “So, how did you ever go to the doctor for that?”
