“It smells like you,” he says.
“I’ve used it since I was in sixth grade, but now it’s just a treat.”
I relax into him and slip in and out of consciousness as he applies the conditioner and then rubs some body wash into my legs and arms before rinsing me off completely.
When the shower turns off, he helps me to stand and I lean my back into his chest. His shirt is soaked through completely, and I feel his nose in my hair.
“That felt so good,” I tell him. “I could kiss you.”
His laugh sounds uncomfortable this time as he rubs a fresh towel up and down my limbs and in my hair.
For a moment, he leaves me to stand on my own and spreads my clean clothes out.
“I’m going to turn around while you change,” he says.
I shrug and immediately begin to unhook my bra.
He spins around so fast that he practically crashes into the wall.
I find my favorite sleep shorts, a Calvin Prep Fall Festival T-shirt, and fresh underwear waiting for me, so I toss my wet clothes on top of his discarded shirt and pants.
Bennett sits me on the bench outside while he gets changed, and when he comes out, he’s carrying our laundry and wearing nothing but tux pants slung low on his hips.
In our room, he changes and I definitely do not accidentally open one eye to see his butt, because that would be creepy. (It has dimples like his cheeks. The ones on his face.)
He gives me another glass of water and sits behind me again so he can brush my hair. He even remembers my leave-in conditioner.
Just as I’m falling asleep, he feeds me the thermometer again, and this time when it beeps, I hear him make a satisfied sound.
“Thank you for taking care of me,” I whisper.
“Thanks for letting me.” One of his fingers brushes over my forehead.
Only because you have a cute butt, I think to myself.
I fall asleep and I dream of his arrogant laugh and a light kiss on the forehead. As far as dreams go, it’s not too bad.
CHAPTER 15
Clover
I’m in and out of it for another three days. When Bennett isn’t in class, he’s in our room, watching movies with me and forcing me to eat and stay hydrated.
On the fourth morning, I wake up clearheaded and feeling much less corpse-like. Beside my closet is a shrine of period products that I hadn’t noticed before. Huh.
Bennett walks in carrying some shopping bags while I’m investigating a menstrual cup.
“What is all this?” I ask as he sets the bags on the bed. He’s wearing dark jeans and a blue Oxford shirt with enough buttons undone to be considered slutty. His scar and the divot in his chest are visible and I quickly avert my gaze back to the feminine-hygiene-product drive happening in our dorm room.
“You asked for tampons the other night.”
“I did?” Oh, yes, I vaguely remember. “I did. But I just needed one box.”
“Yeah, we weren’t sure what exactly that meant. Like, one box per day or…?”
“This is more than just tampons,” I tell him.
“Julian panicked. So he just bought one of everything.”
