“I’d highly suggest not finishing that sentence. I’m sleep-deprived and hyped up on too many cups of coffee and will likely murder you in the next few seconds if you keep arguing with me. I need to take care of you, so put up with it and let me.”
I shut up as she guides me into the adjoining en suite to the toilet, then wait for her to leave. She doesn’t.
“Uh, Syn?”
“It’s not like I haven’t seen your penis before.”
Why did she have to bring up that embarrassing shower moment?
I look down at the white porcelain. “I’ve never had someone watch me take a piss.”
“Not even in the men’s public restroom at the urinal?”
“No, actually.”
“Want me to get Tristan to come help?”
“Fuck, no.”
Apparently, not willing to budge, she says, “We’re married. Married people do their bathroom stuff around each other all the time.”
“And as you have pointed out on several occasions, we’re not technically married.”
“Well, if you want to get ‘technical’ about it, I’m notlegallymarried to Tristan, Hendrix, or Constantine, either.”
“Syn.”
“And I’m going to be a doctor. Seeing a naked body is clinical.”
“I dare you to say that to Hendrix.”
She bites her bottom lip and grins.
“Okay, gross. Please stop thinking about him naked.”
“You brought it up.”
“Which I now regret.”
“Fine. Have it your way.” She turns around to give me a modicum of privacy.
Having no other choice, I quickly do my business and flush.
As I wash my hands, she pulls out a rolled towel and washcloth from the small linen closet, then grabs a medical kit from the vanity’s undercabinet.
She whacks me lightly with the washcloth. “I didn’t want to say anything, but you stink. I also need to check and change your bandages. Two birds with one stone. Sit or stand?”
“Stand.” If I sit down, I doubt I’ll be able to get back up.
Syn’s palm is warm when she places it over my jugular notch, her thumb and fingers curving on my neck. “I promise to be gentle.”
“I trust you.”
She breathes in slowly and nods.
Her touch is tender as she unwraps the compression bandage from around my chest. I hadn’t seen the damage until now. Taking in my reflection, my entire torso is black and purple, the colors matching the ones covering my face. It’s been a while since I’ve been beaten this badly. It could be worse.
Syn wets the washcloth under warm water from the faucet and adds a few drops of soap from the pump next to the sink. The soft terrycloth causes my skin to turn to gooseflesh as she takes her time washing me.
