“How’d you know my size?”
Jude was quiet for a moment. “You’re forgetting I was ordered to learn everything about your brother. That includes knowing everything about you.”
There was something in his voice. Maybe embarrassment? Whatever it was, he wasn’t proud to know those things about me.
I glanced down at my butter-yellow sweatsuit. “As sad as I am to stop looking like a walking banana, I’m really excited to put on fresh underwear.”
That drew a meager laugh from him.
I grabbed the underwear, bra, and a pair of leggings, but paused when I spotted something else at the bottom of the bag.
Jude had found a faded Red Sox T-shirt for me.
I clutched the clothes to my chest and tiptoed into the bathroom to change. The bathroom was a tight fit, but whoever had originally built the cabin managed to squeeze in a respectable-sized shower, a sink with enough counter space to store our toothbrushes and toothpaste, and a toilet. It was far from fancy, but it was clean and smelled of bleach and lavender. I had no idea how long the cabin had been uninhabited before us, but with the amount of dust on everything else, Jude must have scrubbed the bathroom while I napped yesterday.
That’s what I couldn’t figure out about him. He was so thoughtful—not just in a hypervigilant, always-prepared kind of way, but in a way that spoke of kindness and sacrificial giving.
I’m sure he didn’t want to go into town. He was probably just fine living off MREs and wearing the same outfit for days on end.
But he knew I wasn’t.
He risked going into town just for me.
I snuck out of the bathroom on silent feet with the yellow sweatshirt and sweatpants tucked under my arm. After changing clothes, putting on fresh underwear, brushing my hair, and braiding it back, I felt just a little bit better. I froze mid-stride.
Jude’s back was to me.
Jude’sexposedback.
And his thighs.
And his arms.
And every other goddamn thing.
Holy shit.
Jude had stacks of muscle that were tattooed everywhere.Everywhere.
Broad shoulders rippled as he bent at the waist and pulled on a pair of black boxer briefs over his thick thighs and well-toned ass.
He grabbed a fresh undershirt and pulled it over his torso. His hair was still tied up in a messy knot, held by my ponytail.
The floorboard under my foot creaked, giving me away. Still Jude never turned. He grabbed a pair of black jeans and tugged them on. “I’d tell you to take a picture because it’ll last longer, but I kind of blew up your phone.”
I snorted as the knot in my chest from earlier began to ease. “You know, next time I’d like a kidnapper who isn’t funny. You’re making it hard to hate you,” I said as I scurried across the cabin and dumped my old clothes on the bed.
Jude didn’t respond to my compliment. Instead, he glanced at the pile and said, “There’s laundry detergent down in the cellar. No washer or dryer, so you’ll have to hand wash your shit in the sink and hang it to dry, but at least it’ll be clean.”
I glanced warily at the kitchen sink.
I had a PhD. I had an eidetic memory. I could figure out how to wash my clothes in the sink.
But as if he could read my mind, Jude took one glance at me and said, “I’ll show you how.”
I swallowed. “You know, when I said you scared me, I didn’t meanyouscared me. I just meant that I woke up and you weren’t here and I didn’t know if something had happened.”
Jude turned to face me and licked his lips as he slid a belt through the loops of his unbuttoned jeans. “Like I said. Don’t apologize.”
