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That makes Shiloh cackle. “Did you just admit to having a sandy vagina?”
“I did.” My head hangs in shame.
“Call Chance,” she wheezes between bouts of snorts. “On second thought, that’ll get you even more drenched.”
“It’s impossible to resist a freshly exfoliated cooter. I used all organic materials.” My voice is pitched to sound like an award-winning advertisement.
“We’d make a fortune.”
“Well, if it’s any consolation, my phone isn’t looking good.” I try to shake the excess water from the charging port, but it’s useless.
“Maybe it’ll finally be silent and we can finish our ride in peace.” Shiloh takes a few more photos before safely securing hers. Smart woman. “Saddle up, soggy tits. You’ll air out that gritty cooch along the way.”
Unfortunately, my gritty cooch didn’t air dry. I rode for an hour with sand rubbing in very uncomfortable places. That doesn’t include the chafing from wet denim. It’s a very unforgiving material when soaked and my inner thighs are feeling the burn.
I gingerly trudge up the stairs to my apartment. The squish in my boots mocks me every step of the climb, and a raw ache spreads from muscles I didn’t even know existed. I’m worn out and humbled. Lesson learned. No more texting and riding.
As I slide my key into the lock, I grimace at my phone. It’s been on the fritz since I fell in the river. Chance is probably losing his shit. I’ll put it in a bag of rice and hope for a miracle.
But that plan is put on pause when I step inside. I’m greeted by the relaxing aroma of eucalyptus blended with lavender. My knees almost give out as relief pours over me. Chance is here. I don’t have to see him to know he’s responsible. After kicking off my sodden boots and socks, I stagger toward the comfort he’ll undoubtedly provide.
“Well, you sure took your sweet time getting home. I was beginning to—” The rest of his statement cuts off abruptly when he catches sight of me from the bathroom doorway. His wide gaze roves over my disheveled state. “Oh, baby. C’mere.”
I collapse into his open arms, hiccuping on a sob. “It’s so good to see you. For once, I approve of your breaking and entering habit.”
He chuckles. “Let’s be honest, Wildflower. We’re sharing spaces at this point. That means I can come and go as I please. Feel free to treat my house as yours.”
“I don’t remember agreeing to these terms,” I tease, trying to lighten the mood.
“Hush. Now isn’t the time to discuss our living arrangements.” Chance’s palms drift along my sides and across my shoulders, moving down my back to my butt and hips. The gentle inspection shoves more emotions to the surface and I sniffle against his chest. “Are you hurt?”
My head lolls from left to right. “Just moist in the worst way.”
“How about we fix that, hmm?” He shuffles backward, pulling me with him. “Let’s get these clothes off.”
I stand like a drenched ragdoll left out in the rain while Chance carefully strips me naked. He sweeps me off my pruned feet and carries me to the tub. The cloudy surface is steaming. There are unfamiliar jars of salts and oils along the ledge.
“You drew me a bath?” Awe wafts from my scratchy throat.
“I figured you could use it after falling in the river. Not to mention riding to the trailer afterward.”
My gaze searches his. “How did you know?”
His cringe is another smack to my pride. “Shiloh sent me pictures and updates on your… condition.”
I bump my forehead on his sternum. My groan is pitiful. “Of course she did.”
“I’m glad she told me,” he rasps. “I’d hate for you to suffer through this alone.”
“It’s my own fault.”
Chance kisses me softly. “You were texting me. That makes me an accomplice.”
“If your misplaced guilt gets me a bath, I won’t complain.”
His fingers dip into the water, checking the temperature. “It’s all set for you.”
My body goes lax as he lowers me in. I inhale and feel the tension seep out of me. He encourages me to lean back, resting my head on a foam pillow that’s suctioned to the lip of the basin.
