“I’m not saying them on purpose.” He sank onto his knees next to the tub, on the towel I’d laid on the floor. “I don’t seem to have much control over my own mouth when you’re near. Especially when you’re naked. But again, for the record, this is not real nudity, nor will I treat it as such. This is injured-nudity.”
And I would lay my injured arm on the side of the tub to remind us both of that, if I wouldn’t be exposing the side of my left breast with themotion.
“So, what canI…?”
“Um…” Normally, I’d lie down in the tub to wet my hair, but I wasn’t about to stretch out naked in front of him. “Can you grab one of those?” I nodded to the cellophane-wrapped plastic cups stacked on the counter. “To help with myhair?”
He grabbed the top cup and tore off the wrapper, then sat on the edge of the tub and held it beneath the flow of water from the faucet. “Tilt your headback.”
I obeyed, my eyes closed, and he poured the water over my hair slowly. “That feels so good,” I whispered. “I hate beingdirty.”
He laughed. “Except when you eatdesert.”
I opened my eyes and glared up at him. “Ha, ha. Maybe you could hand me my shampoo withoutcommentary?”
He grinned as he grabbed the bottle from the counter, but instead of giving it to me, he squirted some right onto the top of myhead.
I gasped. I could tell from the weight of the glob alone that it was way toomuch.
“Was that wrong?” He frowned down at my head. “How do I do this? I’ve never washed this much hairbefore.”
“And I had no plans to change that.” I reached up, tucking my knees tighter to my chest, and showed him how to work the shampoo into a lather, while incorporating the bulk of myhair.
“Let mehelp.”
“That’s okay.” I flinched when my lathering motion pulled on mylaceration.
“You’re in pain. Let me do it.Please.”
“Fine.” The shampoowasmy favorite part of a trip to the salon. Faythe hated having her hair done, but Karen and I went every few months, so she could get her straight, gray hair trimmed back to shoulder length, and I could get mine… well, washed and blown out. Though that was as adventurous as I’d gotten sofar.
“How’s that?” Justus asked. His fingers were strong, butunsure.
“It’sgood.”
“You’re lying. If you tell me something feels good when it doesn’t, you’re really just cheating yourself out ofpleasure.”
“Did you mean for that to sound dirty?” I demanded, scowling up athim.
He grinned down at me. “Will you get mad if I sayyes?”
“Yes.” But evenIdidn’t believe me. “You have to kind of work the lather all over. Like you do with your own hair, but without massively tangling the length ofit.”
“I’m on it.” By the time my hair and scalp were thoroughly clean, his fingers felt so good that I let him keep going just for the fun of it. “I think we’re ready to rinse,right?”
“Not just yet. Keepscrubbing.”
“Are yousure?”
“My hair wasreallydirty.”
Justus scooped up a cup full of water and dumped it right over myface.
I sputtered at him in shock and wiped my eyes with my right hand. Then I flicked water at him. “Jerk.”
“Sorry. I couldn’t resist. Let me rinse your hair for real. I’ll be good, I promise.” But I was no longer sure I wanted him to begood.
After the shampoo, I let him rub conditioner into my hair, but then I made him leave the room to let it sit while I washed the rest of myself on my own. Onehanded.
