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Moving us under the water, we were wet in an instant. Wet and warm and slick. But I was still dirty as hell, so I grabbed my bar of soap, lathered my hands up, and scrubbed my entire body.
“I still can’t believe you don’t use a washcloth,” she said.
“Waste of time.”
She snorted. “How does a washcloth waste time?”
Before I could answer, she grabbed my hand, holding it up to examine it. “Jude, what happened?”
I pulled my hand away, dropping it to my side. “Somebody did something he wasn’t supposed to. I had to explain shit so he’d understand.”
“With your fist? That’s why your knuckles are all beat up, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. That’s why.”
The guy had deserved it. Eric and I saw him out when he tried to climb on the stage, but he hadn’t wanted to leave. He’d been high out of his mind, spitting and thrashing, and when we tossed him on the sidewalk, he’d sprung right up and charged Eric. Why someone would charge a human brick wall was beyond me. I figured coke or LSD might’ve been the answer. I popped him in the jaw, but he didn’t stop. It took another hit to the temple to slow him down, but an uppercut to the chin finally got him sitting down with his head between his knees.
It hadn’t just been him, though. I got kicked and spit on, drinks spilled on my shoes, ass grabbed by both girls and dudes.
Tonight, I’d hated my job. It seemed like the dregs of humanity had been communing in that one space, the sounds of heavy metal only hyping them up to be worse than they normally were.
Tali lifted my hand, bringing it to her mouth and kissing it delicately. Panicked, seeing her soft lips next to my torn, violent fists, I wrenched away and leaned my head against the tiles.
“I’m sorry, Jude. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You didn’t,” I gritted.
She laid her head on my back, arms around my stomach. “I want to say the right thing, if you need me to say something. If you don’t want to talk, then I’m here for that too. But let me be here.”
“I don’t know what I want.” I slammed the side of my fist into the tiles. “I don’t know. My head is so foggy right now. I’m tripping, and I don’t want to be. I just want to take a shower with my girl and go to bed, but I’m fucking it all up.”
Her hands moved up to my chest. “You had a bad night, but I’m here if you want me to be. Nothing’s fucked up.”
I turned to face her. Water dripped down the sides of her face and beaded on her long eyelashes. Her lips were parted, pleading, brow pinched in concern. I hated that I put that look on her face.
I cupped her wet cheeks and pressed my mouth to hers. She whimpered when I slipped my tongue inside, tasting her deep and slow. Her lips were so warm, welcoming, my home. They erased the bullshit—erased my feelings of inadequacy and made me think it might all turn out okay.
“Love you, Stripes.”
She smiled into another kiss, this one just as slow, but a little more sweet.
“I love you too, grumpface. Can we get out of this shower and into your bed? You can tell me about your night, or not. I can read you my sociology textbook and put you to sleep.”
“Grumpface? Really?” My hands slid down her shoulders and back, to her ass, squeezing it.
“What? Not as good as Stripes?”
Laughing, I shut off the water, drying her first, then myself, and we got under my covers, lying face to face. My dick was hard, but it always was around her. I wanted inside her, but I really wanted to look at her and talk to her.
“Can’t believe you were just waiting for me,” I said.
Her hand found mine under the covers, and she wove our fingers together.
“Well...I might have played a round ofHalo. And I also might have beaten and shamed Jeremy.”
I grinned. “Did they kick you out?”
She grinned back. “There were clear hints my kind wasn’t wanted.”
