So we were definitely not in “six showerhead” territory.
I stepped under the spray after stripping out of my clothes and groaned.
“Marry me!” I called out.
The door creaked open and then, “Can I grab your clothes?”
I looked up through the nine inches of unfrosted glass and said, “Sure. Are you going to wash them?”
“Planned on it,” he said. “Any special instructions?”
“Use extra detergent.” I shrugged. “I don’t subscribe to that follow the laundry instruction life. I throw my fitted sheets in with my delicates.”
“And I’ll bet you can’t find them afterward,” he said as he stepped into the room.
“I find them…eventually. Usually in the middle of the night when I find a lump underneath my sheet. I’ve fished many ’o socks out that way.”
“You’re funny,” he said as he bent down and grabbed my clothes. “Do you want girl smelling shampoo?”
I felt my belly drop out. “Uh, I don’t want to sound ungrateful…but why do you have women’s clothing and stuff here? Did you bring me home without asking your girlfriend?”
There was a moment of silence and then, “Spent a few weeks talking with Audrey Stanley—Audrey Owala to you—and she left a bunch of stuff at my place. I was just trying to get to know her. I slowed it down after seeing how far she was taking it. She was over here once with a few other people and brought in a box of her things. She even distributed some of her things to the master bathroom and bedroom while I wasn’t paying attention. She hasn’t asked for any of her stuff back yet.”
I dropped the washcloth and all but threw open the glass doors. “You’re joking, right?”
He slowly allowed his gaze to follow the line of suds that were sluicing down the length of my body.
I didn’t have the capacity to be embarrassed right then.
“About what?”
“Audrey!” I cried out. “You’re joking. It’s anyone else, right?”
He frowned and brought his gaze back up to mine. “No.”
I groaned and placed both of my hands over my face, which only caused shampoo to get into my eyes.
I cried out as I turned toward the spray, hastily rubbing my face as I rambled.
“Weaver! I swear to God, if that woman murders me in my sleep, it’s going to be all your fault!” I cried out. “We’re going to lose state next year because of you!”
There was a moment of disbelieving silence before he said, “I’m sorry, but how did you get that far out of the realm of possibility?”
I turned back to him, my hair whipping the glass doors before I pushed most of my upper body out of the shower stall and toward him. “Because she hates me! Absolutely loathes. I have spent hours hiding from her at school! I spent more time in my locker my freshman year than I did outside of it. All because of her. And now you’re telling me that you’re in a relationship with her?”
“Not quite,” he corrected me. “I’m not seeing her seriously.”
I picked up a pink loofah and threw it at him. “Then explain this!”
“That’s mine,” he said as he caught it, water drenching the front of him. “All of her shit is in the master bath.”
That only made this worse.
“Fuck.” I closed the door and turned my back to him, hastily pumping out way too much masculine three-in-one body wash, shampoo and conditioner product before working it into my hair. “My life is ruined. More ruined! I didn’t think it could get much worse after finding my parents…but then you tell me this. I swear to God, I cannot win!”
He started to back out of the room, but I pointed at my clothes. “Leave those. I’ll put them back on.”
He continued to back away.
