Page 34 of About the Green

I shrug, tamping down the upset I felt. “I found out everything I could about him. I expected him to have some other family. Maybe that's why he couldn't be with me. Maybe that would make me feel better to know that there was an actual reason, and that it wasn't just me. But Chris didn’t. No kids, no wife and no close family he came to Chrome to escape from. Just working and coming to see Liezel when he could.”

We get to the hotel and I am not excited to face more of this story. Vert doesn’t push as he gets the passenger door open for me to continue. He leads me to the room and I’m grateful for the silence as I try not to fall into that place I was in before. I honestly don’t think I can go all the way through the tale if I tried right now.

But then the heavy hotel door closes and Vert takes the leather chair across from his neatly made bed to the side of the bathroom door. He gestures to the door across from him and I take the few steps necessary to get inside the room.

So, as I stand there in only a towel after my shower, finally getting all the mud and everything off me, he's dressing my wounds. He stood dutifully outside the bathroom door and said nothing as I dropped my dirty clothes onto his floor and did my best to use every bit of the toiletries that smelled like him.

In nothing but a towel around my hips, I allow him to see exactly what damage I’m working with. I got most of what I could out of the road burn but there’s more that I couldn’t get to on my own. Every little scrape and cut, he's cleaning with precision. Using tweezers to get the shredded fabric and stubborn debris from my skin, I can't move. I don't want to move. Either from the pain or from the care. I can’t decide which is more arresting. I don't know that anyone has ever done something like this for me.

Certainly not a man.

I feel like a wet dog, wrung out and limp-looking, every bit of my tiny body exposed under my more imposing large, fluffy hair.

How intimidating can I be when I'm this exposed?

Not very.

I'm shivering and cold, and under his inspection of my hurts it's not just the physical wounds that he's unknowingly healing.

The biggest part of my injuries is under this towel, but I don't have any clothes to change into. I'm not really able to cover myself up more for him to get to the wounds I have with how dirty all my other things are. It'll be a while before they're clean in the laundry room.

I'm going to have to drop my towel.

Sure, I could go to a hospital, but I don't want some stranger to tend to me.

I want Vert to.

Somehow I need it to be him.

He doesn’t seem opposed to the idea as he’s been quietly doing a thorough job so far.

So I let my towel fall, and I watch to see what will happen next.

At first, I thought nothing's going to happen. He eyes the large scrape along my side with almost clinical concentration, but then his eyes travel a little longer, a little lower, and I see his throat bob with a deep gulp.

I know what he's seeing.

It’s not best practice, but clean is clean. It’s been almost two weeks since I got them so it should be fine to use his regular body wash.

His eyes are a brand on the sparkling bars through my nipples. A little swollen and irritated from my fall.

I’m grateful that I didn’t have one ripped out from how I fell. They certainly don’t feel the best after what I just put them through.

Nevertheless, he notices.

In the grand scheme of things I’ve done to get this man’s attention, this one had felt like the dumbest thing I’ve done.

“How long have you had these?” He asks, looking away finally to tend to the bits of fabric that are still wedged between the abused layers of skin.

This conversation is far easier than the one he’s determined to push me on. I’m happy to do this instead.

“Not long…” I hedge. Coming out and saying that I got them to catch his attention doesn’t give the vibe I’m going for here.

He licks his lips and I’m not sure he knows he’s doing it. His glances up at them when he does it is too close to be coincidental.

I wish that I had gotten them sooner so he could take them for a ride. With any luck, he’ll be doing just that soon enough.

Closing my eyes for a moment, I imagine what his mouth would feel like over my nipple, playing with the bar. It’s a far better place be that the occasional sting of my open wound being prodded.