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I felt June’s panic in the way she clenched her stomach and pushed against my back to right herself. “What are you doing?”
I dropped my bag in front of the sinks, pulled my phone from my pocket to set it on the chipped porcelain, and then walked toward the showers.
“Amos, I amnotkidding. You put me down right now.”
I deposited her unceremoniously in one of the shower stalls, making sure she fell safely onto the wood slatted bench.
Curly hair disheveled and falling around her face, she snarled and tried to push past me, but I hooked my left arm around her waist and slammed on the shower button with my right. Icy water cascaded over both of us. The outdated showers only had one button, which heated to whatever temperature they had it set to, and that was it.
She gasped loudly, her mouth dropping open and her body stiffening. It was my turn to laugh spitefully at her expense. “Sit down, Matthews.”
She turned in the circle of my arm, glaring up at me. Water dropped from a bouncy curl at her forehead down to her full lips. She licked the drop unconsciously, biting her lip in frustration.
Oh, boy. I might not have thought this all the way through. Angry June I could handle, but soaking wet, sullen June with her big, emerald eyes and pouty lips was not on my list of safe situations to find myself in.
The water sprayed us in a freezing stream, gradually warming to a lukewarm temperature. Shaking against my body, June pulled her arms against her chest. Her teeth chattered.
As the water heated up, I reached up to grab the shower head, which was attached to a long hose for particularly messy cleanups after long days in the outdoors.
Or party girl puke.
June folded her arms under her breasts, shoving herself in the far corner of the shower stall and glaring at me. Her cream T-shirt had gone completely transparent, and, if I was honest, I couldn’t help but note the outline of her white bra beneath. Or rather, the uselessness of it. The defined shadow of her nipples pebbled as she narrowed her eyes at me, shivering and dripping wet.
I clenched my jaw as I felt my traitorous dick start to harden. Then I turned the nozzle and sprayed her directly, washing away the honey and puke all over the front of her.
She spluttered, holding out her hands and stomping her soggy shoes. “Stop, oh my God I’m going to fuckingkillyou, Brady.”
I splashed her face. “Language.”
She coughed, blocking the stream with her hand and screwing her eyes shut. “Amos,” she whined, that time sounding truly desperate.
Taking some pity on her, I hooked the shower head back in its cradle, and then left her with a stern point. “Stay,” I commanded.
She slumped to the bench, drawing her knees up and resting her head on her knees. “I’m gonna be sick again,” she groaned.
I squelched across the tile floor to my duffel bag, crouched down in front of it, and unzipped it. After sifting through the contents and depositing the ones I needed in the sink above me, I stood and glanced over my shoulder toward the shower stall. June still sat with her forehead against her knees, eyes closed, and her arms went slack. She was falling asleep in the shower—actually sleeping.
I hurried to shuck off my sodden pajama pants, and then I pulled on my swimming trunks. I grabbed my toiletries bag, fished shampoo and soap from it, and returned to Sleeping Barfy.
She moaned, rocking her forehead against her knees. The shower, steaming now, only hit her shins from where she sat. She looked miserable. And vulnerable. And every part of her tugged on my heartstrings in that moment, causing me to pause. I had taken an immense amount of vindictive pleasure in teasing her, but I realized an abruptly sobering fact:
Right now, I was the one being tortured.
My groin tightened and my fingers gripped the soap bottle too tightly, causing it to creak. The undeniable truth of how attracted I was to June slammed into me with sudden, staggering force. I wanted her.
I wanted her badly.
But I couldn’t have her for a wholemanifestoof reasons, not the least of which because I had made her life a living hell for no particularly good reason other than it satisfied my need to control her.But why do you want to control her, Amos?I asked myself with grim acceptance.
Because you want her.
I angled into the shower stall, suddenly desperate to have her washed off and a significant distance away from me. Those feelings were not something I could indulge. I crouched in front of her and gently removed her white sneakers, followed by her soaking socks.
June protested, pushing at me with her feet, but I caught her ankle and lathered soap along her feet and up her shins where her vomit had stained her pale skin with huckleberry puree. June picked up her head, green eyes hooded and little droplets of water falling from her lashes. Her mouth opened a fraction in surprise.
I swallowed hard, trying to ignore how touching her body made me feel, but it was impossible. If I got through this without ripping off her clothes and pinning her against the shower wall, I deserved some kind of medal. “Gentlemanly conduct in the face of a soaped up, soaking wet goddess. First place.”
I pulled her to her feet, turning her body so the warm water cascaded over her breasts and down her belly. Sucking in a breath, ignoring her glassy doe eyes, I lathered more soap between my hands and smoothed my palms over her stomach where I washed off the sticky residue from our honey war.
