I eye the plastic cup he holds out toward me suspiciously. “Beau made that too, right?”
Ryan groans. “Yes. But for the record, my smoothies are great.”
I stick my tongue out. Ryan puts fricking chicken in his smoothies, because Martha Stewart wronged him in a past life or something.
When the strawberry-banana smoothie hits my tastebuds, my level of “better” instantly rises. I sigh. “Thanks, Ryan. For this and for, uh, everything else.”
He smiles warmly. “I like helping you, Pips.”
I quickly look away, because him smiling at me like that is dangerous. “So, uh, I heard you talked to Ingrid. She said it was ‘interesting.’”
“Yeah, I might have reamed her out a little for overworking you. Sorry if she took it out on you.”
“She didn’t.” I pause. “Mom and Jack—they’ve been calling you too?”
Our parents have definitely heard about the Toronto Tea article, because I’ve gotten hundreds of texts from them. I silenced them all, because I’m not ready to deal with them yet.
Ryan shrugs. “I’ve been ignoring them.”
“Me too.” The texts I saw from Mom were all asking me to deny the rumors. Since I can’t exactly do that, avoidance seemed like the only strategy for now.
Ryan shifts awkwardly. “Look, how about you finish your smoothie? And I can go run you a bath.”
I blanche. “So I really do smell bad?”
“No, weirdly. But I think it’d make you feel better.”
“Thanks for lying to me,” I say with a laugh. “But yeah, that sounds nice.”
He nods, then disappears down the hallway toward my room. After a moment, I hear the sound of rushing water. I perch on a stool, finishing my smoothie and soaking up the sunshine streaming through the windows. For a few minutes, I let myself enjoy feeling better. I’m still too weak to deal with all the hard stuff right now. I can afford taking a little time to justheal.
When the water turns off, I pad back to my bathroom. The scent of cherries hangs in the air—apparently, Ryan used my favorite body wash to add some bubbles. He’s kneeling next to the tub, his fingers in the water as he checks the temperature.
“It’s still a little hot,” he warns me.
“I like it that way,” I assure him.
He pauses, staring at the ground. “Do you mind if I stay? I can turn around so I don’t see you, I’m just a little freaked that you might pass out or fall asleep and?—”
“Ryan.” I put a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve seen me. You can stay.”
The truth is, I want him here. I feel safe with him—cared for. I don’t care if I feel stupid about it later. Right now, I don’t want to be alone.
I peel off my pajamas, tossing them on the floor outside the room. Ryan keeps his eyes glued to the bathmat, but part of me wishes he would look. I dip my toe in the bath, testing the water. It feels just on the edge of too hot, just like I like it. I sigh as I step into the tub and sink down below the water.
“This is amazing,” I sigh.
He smiles over at me, and his eyes land on the washcloth sitting on the edge of the bath. He picks it up, looking up at me through his eyelashes. “Can I help?”
I bite my lip and nod.
He shifts closer to the edge of the tub. I lift my hair up off my neck, and he dips the cloth into the water before he starts scrubbing my neck and upper back. I swallow a moan. The heat and friction feels amazingly good against my skin, especially after lying in bed for days.
Ryan takes his time, scrubbing my back and my shoulders. He slowly moves down my arms, lifting them each in turn as he moves the cloth in circles around my skin. My muscles melt into the warm water and his touch. I can’t remember anybody touching me with so much care, making sure every inch of me is cleaned.
Once he’s done, he shifts to the front of me, holding the cloth up to my collarbone. “Here too?” he asks, his voice low and rough.
I nod, and he starts washing my breasts and chest. It’s sensual and intimate, him touching me there, but he’s so, so careful. Careful to touch me with the cloth and not his hands, careful not to linger anywhere that would take this somewhere more sexual. It’s like we’re flitting toward and away from the line between us, the one that separates affection from lust.
