“Got a little carried away. Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” That’s the last thing I want him to apologize for. “I liked it.”
“Yeah, you did.” He winks, moving my body and tilting my head back. “But we still need to rinse you off.”
“Oh.”
The last thing on my mind is rinsing the conditioner from my hair, but I humor him. I’m a little disappointed when he shuts off the water a minute later. Making out in the shower with him is more fun than I expected. I want to do more of that.
Jackson hands me an oversized towel, and while I dry off, he steps out of the shower and grabs another to dry himself. I wrap the towel around my chest and squeeze the last of the water from my hair before joining him. His towel is slung low on his hips, wrapped so I get treated to a naughty peek-a-boo. I can’t keep myself from staring.
“Hey, perv,” he teases. “My eyes are up here.”
I can’t help but smile.
“Here.” Jackson pulls out the stool from beneath his bathroom vanity counter. “Sit.”
“Okay.” I eye him with interest and take a seat. He turns me in the chair so I face the mirror, and reaches for my hair dryer. “You don’t have to dry my hair, Jackson.”
“I want to.”
“Jackson.” I draw out his name.
Washing my body and hair in the shower was enough. This level of pampering is over the top and completely unnecessary.
“Rosalie.” He parrots my tone and moves to stand in front of me. He waits for my gaze to meet his. “When was the last time someone took care of you?”
Indignation rises in my chest. “I take care of myself just fine.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Frustrated, I furrow my brows and shake my head.
“What do you want from me?”
He pauses, considering his answer longer than I’d like. The silence makes me nervous. What is he not saying?
His gaze is full of question when he finally speaks.
“Let me take care of you tonight?”
Lethim. He’s asking for consent. I appreciate that about him more than I could ever express. It diffuses some of the discomfort in my body.
“Tonight,” I warn him. I will let him do this, but only tonight. Because when Saturday rolls around, I’m gone. I remind him. “I’m only here two more nights.”
“I know, darlin’.” He closes the space between us and leans over to press a kiss to my forehead. “Let me take care of you. Let me do this tonight.”
I don’t answer, but my shoulders relax. I don’t have it in me to fight him when he’s being so damn sweet.
I watch him through the reflection of the mirror as he plugs in my hair dryer and stands beside me, working the heat through my locks, one section at a time. His brow furrows in concentration, and it’s honestly cuter than it should be. He finger combs my hair in the process, and though I can tell he’s not an expert at this, he takes care to be gentle and thorough.
He turns off the blow dryer when he’s finished, and I catch him stifling a yawn.
“You must be exhausted.”
“I’m good.” He takes my hand and pulls me out of the bathroom, toward the bed. “I’m not ready to call it a night.”
He wants to go again? Maybe he really can give my book boyfriends a run for their money.
