Page 138 of To All the Guys I Killed Before

“There’s plenty of hot water.” He quirks a smile at me as steam starts to fill the room. “I upgraded to tankless when I realized my new tenant likes long showers.”

I nod solemnly back.

“I’ll leave you alone,” he says once he’s done fussing. “Where’d you leave your car?”

“My garage.” I close my eyes and lean my head against the wall despite the pain it causes in the muscles of my neck. “I kept the opener when I moved. Sorry.”

“Keep it forever,” he says immediately. “Keys?”

“Passenger seat.”

He kisses my forehead. “I’ll be back.”

I know he’s going to handle my mess, and I have every intention of rushing through cleanup and going to help him, but the shower runs and runs and the air gets so damp that my clothes start to stick to my body, and this bench is surprisingly comfortable, and my arms don’t seem to have the strength to lift this disgusting shirt over my head even though I should want to scrub off all the traces of red that soaked through the fabric and onto my skin, but I just can’t seem to do it, I can’t seem to…

Hugo’s knock pulls me back into my body.

“Rue?” he calls. “Everything good?”

When I don’t answer, he eases the door open and steps inside. He’s quiet for a moment when he sees me slouched against the wall. Then he asks, “Can I help you undress, baby?”

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

Rue

Do I want Hugo’s help undressing?

Yes, obviously.

“No,” I say.

“No?” he repeats dubiously, eyeing my vertical lean against the wall.

“It’s not you.” God, brain, please get back in the game so I can explain this properly. “It’s just… I don’t want this to be how we get naked together for the first time.” I gesture down my body, regretting it when my right shoulder complains yet again. “Me covered in someone else’s DNA, and you treating me like an invalid.”

“But you’re saying there’ll be another first time?” Pink touches his cheeks. This man I’ve watched kill for me blushes when he talks about getting me naked.

“Yes, neighbor guy. I am.” Then I force myself to sit upright. “But I actually do need your help. Please don’t enjoy it.”

“Right. Don’t enjoy it,” he mutters, keeping his eyes locked on the wall above my head as I lift my arms so he can ease the shirt over my head. The motion hurts every injured part of me from the waist up, but I bite back my hiss of pain and bend forward so he can reach my bra hook. He unclasps it and immediately spins away, his back rigid.

“Let me know if you need help with anything else.”

I slide my bra the rest of the way off and shimmy my pants and underwear down my legs, all the while groping for the urge to be snide about him giving me my privacy now. But it’s not there anymore. None of this feels performative. It feels like care and concern and… more. Something I can’t let myself name just yet. Something I want more of, if I can just let myself have it.

I stand and hobble toward the clear glass door so I can step under the multiheaded adjustable shower spray. The water hits me like a warm caress, and I groan.

Hugo whips around, his eyes landing below my chin this time. “Are you oka⁠—”

His mouth slams shut as he takes in my body through the glass, which is fogged from the shower steam but in no way opaque. He swallows hard and turns back around, but slowly this time.

“Are you okay?” he asks the wall.

“No.”

My voice has him whipping around again, his eyes going even wilder on his second viewing.

“Why do you have this fancy shower setup when I had the contractor special?” I ask peevishly, and his alertness dissolves into a smirk. The man’s standing there fully dressed while I’m wet and naked, and he’s smirking at me through clear glass.