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Gene nodded as if he understood what she was feeling. He didn’t say something comforting. Instead, he took a washcloth from the pile of towels on the shelves next to the tub. He wet it with clean water and wrung it out, then returned to her and dabbed around her cut.
Amanda hissed a bit at the slight sting.
“What are you doing?”
“Go ahead and cry it out if you need to. You just had a traumatic event, Amanda. You were scared, worried, and probably angry at the same time. It’s normal to feel overwhelmed.” Gene focused on her forehead. “I’ll help you get clean. You almost got all the blood out of your hair.”
“I’m naked here.” Amanda pointed it out, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“I’m not looking,” he said. “Sit up and turn around. I’ll help you rinse.”
Resigned, Amanda did as he instructed. With her legs folded up against her chest, she let Gene use the handheld shower head to wash soap from her skin as the dirty water drained. He did it fast and efficiently and never once touched her. He then grabbed a towel to spread over her back and another to dry her hair.
Amanda wrapped herself with the towel as she rose. Her legs wobbled, but Gene was right there to catch her.
“My legs feel like rubber,” she said, holding on to him. “Why am I suddenly so tired?”
“The adrenaline wore off. Let’s get you to bed, okay?” Gene gently said.
Not bothering to ask her, this time he scooped her up into his arms, complete with the towels, taking the breath out of her literally and figuratively. The feel of his arms cradling her made her mind race to a moment in the past.
Déjà vu…
Amanda had been in Gene’s arms before, just like this. She remembered when he’d set her down. He’d smiled and asked…
“You’re okay?” the present Gene asked the same question. He sat her down at the end of her bed, studying her face.
Obviously, he didn’t remember that moment like she did.
“Yes, thank you,” Amanda replied with a small smile, trying to cover her embarrassment over her one-sided memory and state of undress.
“Clothes?” he asked.
Why be embarrassed now? I was naked in the tub and he only had eyes for my wound. He merely sees a patient, not a woman.
Amanda gestured to the dresser. “Underwear in the top drawer. Old T-shirt in the middle.”
Gene picked one of each without looking and brought them to her.
“Do you need help putting these on?” Gene asked, eyeing her stiff wrist.
Amanda nodded. She didn’t have anymore energy to be stubborn.
“T-shirt first.” Gene unfolded the oversized garment and saw a 90s rock band emblem on it. He nodded in approval, then put it over her head, careful not to graze the cut. He pulled it over the towel all the way down as far as it went.
Gene then looked at the scrap of triangle he’d pulled out.
“These will be a little tricky.”
“I can do it.”
She grabbed the panties and tried to put them on with one hand and failed. Plus, her abs hurt when she bent over.
Gene blew out a breath, as if seeing her struggle was tough. He took the underwear from her hand and reddened. It was adorable to see an adult man blush over a piece of clothing. He stretched the simple cotton panties and went down on one knee by her feet.
Amanda swallowed as she watched the top of Gene’s head as he worked her panties up her legs.
How was she reliving that momentous point in her teenage life when she’d fallen for him and he didn’t remember a thing? Sure the details were a little different. They’d been on a soccer field and he’d been examining her ankle. Gene had been there to assist the team’s physician for extra credits. Even as a senior in high school, he’d focused on becoming a doctor.
