Page 42 of Her Wicker Guardian

Locke touches his shoulder. “Water good.”

“Yes.”

My attention catches on the toilet beside the sink, and a question I’ve been successfully avoiding since he drank his first bottle of water finally becomes impossible to ignore. He drinks, but so far, I have seen absolutely no evidence that anything ever comes back out.

I look at Locke, then at the toilet, then back at Locke.

No. His vocabulary is not ready for this conversation, and neither am I. But I’m going to need an answer eventually.

He looks at me. “Rachel… water?”

I point at myself. “Rachel uses water too.”

He considers that.

“Rachel shower?”

My stomach tightens before the question is fully out.

“Yes.”

His gaze moves toward the shower, then back to me.

“No.”

His head tilts.

I point toward myself, then the shower, then the hallway. “Rachel shower. Locke outside.”

He watches my gestures. “Why?”

I should have seen that coming.

The first question he manages to ask clearly is the one I have no desire to explain.

“Privacy.”

No response.

I point toward the hallway again. “Locke outside. Rachel shower.”

He studies me for another second. “Later?”

That makes me laugh. “Yes. We’ll deal with privacy later.”

He nods as if we’ve settled something important.

I hand him Tom’s sweatpants. He pulls them on, and my gaze follows the waistband over wet willow before I force my attention elsewhere. When the shirt comes down over his shoulders, I look away a second later than I should.

Some part of me wanted another look, but I pick up the iPad instead. My phone buzzes on the bathroom counter, and the screen lights with DO NOT ANSWER. My hand moves toward it before I stop myself.

My jaw locks, and the back of my neck goes tight as if I’m bracing for a voice I can’t even hear. Locke looks from the phone to me.

I turn the screen face-down. “Nothing.” The word comes out too quickly.

For years, nothing was how I ended questions before they became arguments.

My thumb presses against the edge of the phone, ready to shove it into my pocket.