She nodded, looking satisfied.
“I’ll wash your hair,” I said, moving to kneel behind her.
“I can do it?—”
“Please? I want to.”
She didn’t fight me, so I grabbed a cup and wet her curls.
“Your hair has gotten so long,” I murmured, feeling the tight curls. “I really like the blonde in the front.”
“It was Ryder’s idea,” she said.
I grunted. I hated that little fucking weasel. Seeing her kissing him five years ago made me sick for a week. Thankfully, it seemed to be just what Enzo said it was. A fling. Over before it started.
I didn’t want to know if they’d fucked. Or maybe I did so I could find him and kick his ass again.
“Well, it’s very pretty,” I said, not wanting to fight.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
I shampooed her hair and rinsed it before adding the conditioner.
“You remembered,” she said as I rubbed the ends of her hair.
“Remembered what?”
“My favorite shampoo and soaps.”
“I’d never forget anything to do with you,” I said gruffly as I massaged her scalp.
“Mm,” she said, breathing out.
God, I missed her soft moans.
I’d stay here all night massaging any part of her she needed massaged if she kept making noises like that.
“What have you been doing with yourself the last five years?” she asked.
I liked that she wasn’t calling me names and trying to escape. She was almost the girl I remembered.
Only she was older and more beautiful than my memory gave her credit for.
“I finished a lot of my studies,” I said. “I’m a resident at Mercy.”
“What’s your focus?” She breathed out again, shifting her bubbles. Her eyes were closed as I continued to massage her scalp. I could see the tops of her full breasts.
She looked damn good, too.
“Uh, I’m just doing rotation. I like everything. I wasn’t a big fan of surgery or psych shit, though. My mom does that, and I hate her ass. I like neurology, despite it being close to psychology. Emergency medicine is a good time. I love pediatrics. Figured someday I’ll have my own kids and be able to keep them safe and healthy.”
Her hand reached out and captured mine. I stared in wonder as she twined her fingers with mine.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Remembering,” she murmured, sounding sad.
My throat tightened, and I brought her hand to my lips, where I gently kissed her knuckles.
