“I’m sorry,” I said, whisper-soft, pulling my hand away. “Come on, let’s get you in the shower.”
In the end, I had to get in with him. It’s almost like he was terrified if he let go, I’d suddenly disappear. So, after stripping both of us down, I settled under the spray of water before him. It should have been odd, being in a shower naked with a guy I had no intention of hooking up with—at least not tonight. But getting inwith him, helping him in this moment was more important than my worry or any self-consciousness.
“Is this too hot? Too cold?” I asked, searching his face for any sort of emotion other than the icy hollowness shining back at me.
He shook his head, his gaze lowering to the tiled floor of the shower. God, I wished he’d talk. This…silence. It was deafening. He’d never been a talker before, but, fuck…what I’d give to hear him say something,anything, right now.
I chewed my lip a moment, feeling awkward and worried and concerned but not having a single clue how to fix any of it. Wiping water from my face, I reached for the loofah and a bottle of body wash. With trembling hands, I began scrubbing the soot off of Maverick, singing softly under my breath.
With each pass of the loofah over his skin, with each new verse I sang, the tension melted off Maverick. Not completely. Not even by a long shot, but he wasn’t stuck in his head anymore. His pale green eyes weren’t so glassy and glazed over. He regarded me in silence, letting me scrub and sing without interruption.
“I used to think when I grew up that I wanted to be a singer,” I said, finishing up the chorus of my favorite Randy Travis song.
His brows knit together questioningly, though he didn’t speak.
I shrugged, understanding what he was asking. “Because I’m notthatgood. And…I don’t know. I did choir in high school, but it just wasn’t my thing. I’ve gotten asked to sing the National Anthem at a couple rodeos, though. That was pretty cool.”
His face softened more as he regarded me, his eyes warming just a bit.
Hope and…some other emotion I couldn’t quite name swelled in my chest. It was good to see him not so dead inside. I focused on his arms, my fingertips brushing the patchwork of his scars once more.
“You always wear long sleeves to cover these up, don’t you?”
His gaze darkened, his jaw tightening.Well, that was stupid of you, Chey.
Damn. I’d never been that great at learning to quit while I was ahead. But I’d gone and done it anyway, so might as well run with it.
“You know you don’t need to, right? They aren’t ugly. Not at all.”
His answering scowl told me everything I needed to know.
“It’s true,” I said softly, though I pegged him with a hard stare. “Scars are beautiful in their own way. They show strength. Endurance. Resolve. They show that whatever tried to kill you failed. That’s pretty impressive if you think of it that way.”
From the look on his face, I’d say he didn’t agree, but at least he wasn’t scowling still.
“Maverick…What can I do? I—” my voice broke, my throat tightening with emotion. I wanted so badly to help him. To make him talk. To make him smile. To make him…anything at this point.
Cash didn’t seem all that fazed at Maverick’s silence. Had this happened before? And for how long? I'd have to talk to Cash, that was for sure.
Blowing out a breath, I met Maverick’s gaze. “Alright, you’re all cleaned up,” I murmured after urging him under the spray of water to wash off any lingering suds.
He held out a hand, nodding at the loofah. I frowned and raised it up in question. He simply nodded once more, and grabbed it out of my grip. He worked some body wash into it, then took over doing the same thing I’d done to him.
Whatever shred of resolve I’d kept in place to keep the dam of my emotions from crumbling shattered completely. A single tear fell down my cheeks. I’d only allow myself one.
Yes, I’d lost my home. Yes, I’d lost all of my things and my livelihood. But I still had Brandy. And whatever I’d gone through tonight couldn’t be worse than what Maverick had and was currently going through.
So, one tear. I’d allow myself this one tear to fall in front of him.
Later I could come apart.Later.
Another five minutes, and we’d both dried off and gotten changed. Charlie had been kind enough to let me borrow a pair of sleep shorts and an oversized t-shirt while she washed my clothes. Maverick changed quickly into a long sleeve shirt and pajama pants, thanks to Cash.
“Want me to go get Cash?” I asked him as he sat down on the foot of the bed.
He shook his head.
“Do you want to go to bed?” I asked. God knows I did. It was late. Like, almost three o'clock in the morning late. Or early, I guess, depending on how you wanted to look at it.
