“Help?” she yipped.
Out of necessity, Gabriel ended up undressing her.
It wasn’t sexy.
Shewasn’t sexy and was too tired to give a shit.
Gabriel had her clothes off and held her hand and elbow as she painfully lifted her foot over the tub. There, Sommer decided the safest bet was to sit on the floor with her scented hotel-bottles of shampoo and liquid soap.
Gabriel stood there at the end of the tub, looking through the space in the curtain. “Can you manage?”
Sommer sighed.
Knees to chest, if she ducked her head forward. At least that put her head under the stream of water. If she stayed there like that, she’d get clean-ish, eventually.
Gabriel undressed and got in with her, washcloth in hand. He straddled her with his long legs, and she balanced by putting a hand on his bent knees.
He started with her hair, then gently and methodically washed her, head to foot.
For her part, Sommer breathed in the herbal scents of the soap and watched as the blood that had coagulated on her many cuts and the filth of many days on the trail ran down the drain.
Afterward, Gabriel leaned forward, turned off the water, and got out.
Sommer missed his arms as soon as he stood.
Crouched by the tub, he dried her off and draped a hand towel over her wet hair and another over her shoulders as she sat there immobile.
He kissed her shoulder. “I’ll be right back. Stay there.” As if she had a choice.
Nope, Sommer didn’t have an ounce of “go” left in her body. Not even a teaspoonful. She contemplated scooting down in the tub and just sleeping there.
A moment later, Gabriel was back, a towel wrapped around his waist. He bent by her side and pulled one of his T-shirts over her head.
“Mmph,” she mumbled. It was supposed to be a thank you. She assumed he knew that because he smiled, then kissed her lips. She got the impression that he found this charming.
It was a weird word to think under these circumstances.
After treating and bandaging her cuts, Gabriel scooped her into his arms.
Sommer protested, of course she did.
But since the words were only in her head, Gabriel didn’t heed them.
“Sorry,” she managed when he laid her on the bed and pulled the blankets over her.
“Not sorry,” Gabriel said.
He kissed her again, and all she could think was “yes, please, More, please. With a background beat of, “It’s been days since you brushed your teeth, Sommer.” She’d make space to be mortified later.
After tucking her in, Gabriel went back to get himself cleaned better.
But that was lost to her.
She passed out as soon as her head hit the pillow.
Sommer had never slept so long or so deeply.
When she woke up, Gabriel and Whiskey were gone.
