Inside my apartment I forgot what a disaster Miranda and I left it. Clothes and shoes are everywhere. My bathroom counter is a mess of make up and hair products. Multiple pairs of shoes are spread across the floor. Several skirts are thrown haphazardly over my bed and the loveseat.
I appreciate that he doesn’t comment on the state of things. He helps me gather all the clothes from the bed, tossing them into a pile on the couch to be dealt with later like it's the most obvious and natural thing to do.
I pull out one of Will’s big t-shirts from my pajama drawer and toss it on the bed along with a clean pair of undies. I step out of my skirt and whip off my top and bra, ready to change and get into bed.
“You wanna take a shower with me? I’m disgusting from the bar.”
Not even two minutes in and he’s asking me to shower with him. “I thought you said no funny business?”
“I did, and I mean it. Just a shower. You don’t have to join me, but if you’re okay with it, I want to take a shower before getting into your bed. I’m gross.”
“Knock yourself out.” God, I sound so bitchy right now.
I can hear him draw the curtains open and closed again, water running.
I’m conflicted. I want to take a shower with him, to curl up into his chest under the hot water, but I also don’t really want to fight him off if he gets horny. In the end, my desire for comfort wins out and I open the bathroom door stepping inside. He pops his head around the curtain, smiling.
“Can I join you?”
“Yes you can fucking join me, and you better get your ass in here before I take all the hot water,” he says tossing open the shower curtain.
“This is an apartment. You don’t run out of hot water.” I say, I can feel the bitchiness fading from my tone, fighting a stupid smile.
“Well I don’t want to test it. You better get in here just in case we do lose hot water,” he deadpans. I step into the far end of the shower, pulling the curtain closed and covering my chest with one forearm and my groin with my other hand, unsure of what to do with my body or where I should look. Being in the shower like this is exposing and awkward.
“Come here.” He tugs me into his chest, under the warm spray of the water, running his finger tips over the column of my spine. There’s a smattering of tiny red and purple marks across his chest and tops of his left shoulder in various stages of healing.
I really do leave a lot of marks on him, but every time I start sucking, he acts like it's the best thing he’s ever felt. And he’s never told me not to leave them.
He kisses me once on the forehead then spins me so my back is to him. A few moments later, he holds a handful of my shampoo in front of me. “Is this enough shampoo for you?”
I swallow a lump in my throat about the fact Will’s about to wash my hair. “A little more.” He pulls his hand back and adds more shampoo before showing me again. After approving of the shampoo quantity, I tilt my head back, fully submerging my hair under the water, letting the heat pour over me and wash off tonight. When my hair’s nice and wet he starts to massage the shampoo into my scalp, working it in with his fingers.
“You have so much hair.”
“Sorry? I can’t really help it.”
“No, you misunderstand me,” he says, working the shampoo in, “I like your hair. A lot. You just have so much, it's insane to me how much you have.”
I don’t know what to say so I hum out a response. Behind me Will chuckles to himself. I turn my head to peek over my shoulder, “What’s so funny?”
“I’m just thinking about how ever since I started staying over here, your hair is literally everywhere. This morning, I unwrapped one of your hairs from around my balls.”
“Ew, Will,” I huff, but don’t really mean it. He continues to work his fingers into my hair, giving me the most thorough hair washing of my life. I like it, it feels so tender and gentle and caring. But it’s also too much for what we are, it's confusing me. I’m developing very real and very big feelings for him. How could I not when he’s literally washing my hair and telling me everyday how hot he thinks I am?
The hot sting behind my eyes and under the bridge of my nose threatens to break into tears as Carter’s words from earlier are replaying in my mind on a loop. I feel like I need to say something, to defend myself, to explain myself, I don’t know exactly.
“It was only one time,” I say. He grunts out a noise that sounds to be a question. “Asking him to call me those things…I only asked him once. That’s not my thing, I don’t like–”
“I know. And you don’t need to explain it to me, I’ve had other girlfriends and said insane things in the heat of the moment.” I’m trying not to read too much into Will saying he’s hadothergirlfriends, as if I’m his current girlfriend. “Sex and dirty talk is different from real life,” he says matter of factly, “It didn’t upset me that he’s called you that. I mean, yeah, it did, but not in the way you’re probably thinking. One of the things you told me was that youdidn’tlike being degraded. Knowing that about you and him degrading you anyway upset me.”
I don’t really know how to respond to him. My chest is tight with about ten different conflicting emotions when Will’s hand appears in front of me again, this time filled with hair conditioner. “More,” I say.
“You’re lying. There’s no way you use more than this.”
“I’m not joking, try doubling what you have in your hand.” I look over my shoulder and watch him add more conditioner to his palm. His gaze clashes with mine, and winks at me while rubbing his hands together, spreading the conditioner onto both palms. “Just the ends,” I say.
“Okay, where do I stop?” He holds his hands out in front of him, hovering over my head.
