But she was already walking out of the bathroom.
Alone, I sighed, then got back to my shower.
I could hear the water running in her bathroom when I got out, toweled off, brushed my teeth, oiled my beard, then got dressed for the day.
I was just straightening my bed when there was a knock at my door.
“I tried knocking on Dylan’s door,” Syn said. Sugar was at his side, tongue still hanging out from her walk.
“Sounds like she’s in the shower,” I said, reaching down for Sugar’s leash. “You heading down to breakfast?”
“Yeah. Figured we might as well eat here if it’s included. You guys coming? Saint wanted to talk about the plan.”
“Yeah. I’ll just wait until Dylan gets done, then we’ll head down.”
“Sounds good. We’ll grab a table.”
I closed the door and walked Sugar over to the connecting door. I was surprised she’d left it unlocked, but Sugar was glad to rush into the room and get a big drink of water out of her bowl.
“You hungry, girl?” I asked.
We hadn’t been able to bring her prepared food, since there weren’t refrigerators in the rooms. But Dylan had packed all of the dried toppers to keep her kibble interesting. So I mixed up some of the bone broth and the dried chicken and beef bits and tossed them in with her hard food.
It was right then that Dylan came out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam.
She’d fully dressed in there, wearing skinny black jeans and a black tee. Her wet hair was held up in a claw clip. She’d even clipped on her silver hoop earrings, mascara, liner, and red lipstick.
She looked hot.
But more so than that, it looked like she was hiding behind the makeup. Like she could slip back into her detached attitude if she looked more put together.
“I threw together something for her before we go down to breakfast,” I told her, waving toward where Sugar was going totown on her food. “She doesn’t seem to miss the premade stuff much.”
“She’s a food hog, no matter what she is offered. It’s more for my peace of mind that she gets that other food. But this stuff is good too. Where are Saint and Syn?”
“Saving a table for us downstairs. You wanna test before we head down?”
Something flashed in her eyes, but she tamped it right back down as she gave me a tight nod and moved to do just that.
“What do you think they’re going to have, food-wise?”
“Hotel buffets are all kind of the same: scrambled eggs, bagels, pancakes, bacon, fruit, cereal, muffins, coffee, and orange juice. Carb-heavy at these kinds of things.”
“Breakfast tends to be kinda carb-heavy everywhere,” she said, going into her kit for her insulin and dosing it.
“Here,” I said, taking the alcohol wipe from her when she struggled with it, her shirt, and the needle. “Is this spot good?” I asked, pressing into her stomach.
“Yeah,” she said, sounding a little breathless.
I cleaned the spot, then held up her shirt so she could inject her insulin.
She cleaned up while I took Sugar’s licked-clean bowl to the bathroom to wash out with paper towels and hand soap.
It was all very… normal.
Familiar.
Easy.
