“What the fuck is that all over your back?”
Shit.
Occasionally, in my field of work, you can get yourself into some pickles. And well, Owen is currently staring at the aftermath of one of my said pickles.
“Burn marks,” I explain, letting the water wash away the shampoo.
I was more worried about the scar that could be seen in the dress. I’d completely forgotten about the burn marks. Let’s also not focus on the fact I’m completely naked in front of him. Just carrying on with my business like this is how we have all our conversations.
Naked.
“Burn marks?” he questions, still fuming. “From what?”
“Fire. Obviously.”
“For fuck’s sake, Lucy,” he grates. “This isn’t funny. Look at the state of you.”
I wince. The bite of pain from his harsh words catches me off guard, but I close it down quickly.
“Do you mind? I’m trying to take a shower.” I walk towards him and push him out from the shower, back into the central bathroom. “There are clothes in the top drawer. They should fit.”
I dismiss him, turning my charred, scarred, and it would seem disgusting body, from him.
“Lucy.”
He says my name softly, and I sense him behind me. Close.
“Look at me please,” he commands gently.
Goddamn it.
Tears bite at the back of my eyes, so before I turn and face the arsehole, I tilt my head back up to the shower spray, letting the water wash away the evidence.
“Yes, Owen.”
“I didn’t mean…” He sighs and looks past me, then looks straight into my soul. “I didn’t mean it like that, you’re beautiful.” He cups my cheek, and I lean into him.
I want to punch myself in the fanny at how I react to him, how my body reacts to him, how I feel something. Something so deep inside that I thought it didn’t exist anymore.
A crack in my coldness.
I shouldn’t react; I can’t react. But I do.
“Please,” I plead, my eyes searching his. Desperate for him to not say anything else.
Tension builds between us, and I can’t meet his eyes. I can’t look into the pool of green, because I want to jump into the moss and swim in it. I want to wrap my legs around his waist and feel his mouth on mine.
I want Owen King, and this is so not good.
And so not part of the plan.
Remember when I said I am so fucked?
Well, I am so unbelievably fucked.
12
Owen - Age 9
