“That’s probably true.”
I grabbed the shampoo and squirted some into my palm before working it gently through her hair.She melted against me immediately with a little sigh.
“There it is,” I muttered.
“What?”
“The concussion patient act.”
She cracked one eye open.“Excuse you.I’m enjoying the scalp massage.”
I snorted and kept washing her hair while she stood there half asleep beneath the spray.Once I rinsed it out, she stole the soap from me and started washing my chest.
Her hands slid over my tattoos slowly.
“You’re staring again,” I said.
“I like your tattoos.”
“Yeah?”
She nodded.“They look mean.”
I laughed.“That’s the point.”
“Well, they’re working.”
I watched her hands trail lower over my stomach before I caught her wrist lightly.“Careful, baby.”
She looked up at me innocently.“What?”
“You start that again and we’re never getting out of this shower.”
“Maybe I’m okay with that.”
Christ.
I leaned down and kissed her quick before finally shutting the water off.
Cold air rushed over us instantly, and McKayla squealed while grabbing for a towel.“Oh my God, it’s freezing.”
I wrapped a towel around her first and rubbed my hands up and down her arms while she dried off.Then she stole my towel halfway through drying my hair.
“You missed a spot,” she informed me.
“I think I can dry myself.”
“Clearly not.”
I just watched her fuss with my hair while trying not to think too hard about how damn normal this all felt.
By the time we got dressed, the clubhouse had mostly woken up.Voices drifted down the hallway along with the smell of coffee and breakfast.
McKayla tugged one of my T-shirts over her head before pulling on jeans.My shirt hung low enough on her thighs to make my brain short-circuit for a second.
She caught me looking and smirked.“See something you like?”
“Yeah.”
