18. Chapter 18 #2
The door clicks open. “Can I come in?”
I wave him forward with one hand, pressing the other to my lips.
“Do you feel like you’re going to throw up again?”
I slowly shake my head. “No. Just...need water.”
He lowers a pile of clothes onto the sink. “I, uh, felt weird going through your stuff, so I just grabbed some of my things. Hope that's okay.” Backing away, he adds, “I'll be right back with a glass of water.”
I hum my thanks, then eye the clothes he brought.
An expertly folded men's T-shirt and matching plaid pair of boxers stares back at me, mocking my helpless predicament. Part of me wants to huff at his presumptuousness—how dare he assume I’d be content to wear his clothes—yet the grateful girl buried deep instructs me to keep my mouth shut.
He’s just trying to help. And I can't fault him for not wanting to riffle through my private, girly things.
I lean forward, elbows on my knees, forehead resting on my palms, and work to take slow, even breaths.
It feels like I’m on the verge of passing out.
I’m not sure if it’s the quick loss of fluid or just the pain in general, but it takes all my mental energy to focus on breathing deeply so Dane doesn’t find me curled up on the floor in my underwear.
“Got the water.” His voice startles me to an upright position. I tug the towel tighter.
“Thanks.” With shaky fingers, I grip the mug in two hands and take a little sip. “Mm.” Once the desert in my mouth is quenched, I hand the mug back to him.
“Do you want me to run a hot bath for you?”
Eyeing the tub again, I shiver. “I don’t know if I can manage that.”
“All right. I’ll get a damp washcloth and help you that way then.”
He flips the faucet on, grabs a washcloth from one of the vanity drawers, and runs it under the hot, steaming water. I watch him silently, noticing he must’ve changed. He’s no longer in the jeans and crisp, collared shirt combo he wore to dinner, but a soft T-shirt and sweatpants.
Once again, Dane crouches in front of me, washcloth in hand. “May I?”
I nod, and with more care than I ever could have thought him capable of, he lightly drags the washcloth over my cheeks, down my neck, and across my collarbone.
The warmth is a welcome reprieve after sitting here shivering in my underwear.
Next, Dane moves to my calves, easing my foot onto his thigh as he slowly runs the warm washcloth over my skin.
“Did I puke on you?” I wince, the bathroom lights seeming to burn directly into my brain.
“Not on me, no. But I might’ve gotten caught in the spray.” His mouth quirks up on one side, which should probably make me feel lighter and less embarrassed. It seems to have the opposite effect, though, because tears are spilling over my lashes before I can stop them.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he says, giving my calf a squeeze. “You can’t help getting sick.”
I cover my face with my hands, too mortified to even look at him.
It’s one thing to get sick in front of someone, but it’s another experience entirely when you completely decimate their perfectly detailed vehicle with the spray from your spew.
And then be forced to watch them clean you up because you’re too weak to do it yourself.
So much for deep, even breathing. My shoulders heave with each hitched breath and barely contained sob.
“D, it’s all right.” Dane reaches out to knead my shoulder, but I only cry harder.
“No, it’s not! I ruined your car!”
“You didn’t,” he says on a sigh. “I only said that because—”
“I know why you said it,” I snap. “You’re so—so—”
“Infuriating? Maddening?”
I lower my hands to glare at him. “You’re so nice ! And I don’t deserve it. We fought on the way to your parents, and you still tried to deflect all their personal questions. Then I puke in your car, and you call me...you call me...”
Dane’s brow pinches tightly as he waits for me to finish.
“You called me sweetheart !” More tears burst from my eyes like I just tossed dynamite into a dam. “I’m not sweet. I’m mean and—and—I don’t even like you!”
Clearly fighting back a smile, Dane gently grips the back of my head and presses me into the crook of his shoulder. Being close to him does nothing to stop the tears; if anything, they intensify. My shoulders shake as he offers what comfort he can.
I don’t deserve for him to take care of me, to hold me like this. I don’t even deserve for him to say nice words to me. I’ve been such a brat about what happened a year ago that I’ve refused to see him for who he really is—a genuine, caring person.
“You don’t have to like me for me to be kind to you.” His soft-spoken words cause another layer of the wall around my heart to crumble.
“But that’s just the problem,” I whine and sniffle. “I do like you. It’s impossible not to like you. You treat me so...so...” Tears well too quickly for me to wipe them away, distracting me from what I want to say next.
“Shh, D.” One of Dane's strong hands kneads the back of my neck while the other rests on my bare knee. “You don’t need to say anything else, okay? Like me or not, I’m here and I’m going to help get you through this.”
I offer him a shaky nod and wipe the tears from my cheeks.
“But...” Dane hesitates, blows out a breath through his nose. “I’m going to need you to hike that towel up a little higher.”
Heat blooms in my cheeks, and all at once, I’m hyper aware of how close we are.
Our every point of contact seems to burn hotter the longer we hold each other’s gaze.
I carefully pull the towel up to my shoulders even as another shiver quakes through me.
Instead of moving away, Dane runs his calloused palm from my neck down over my shoulder, then my bare arm.
The smell of puke has lessened, thanks to Dane cleaning me up and his delectable cologne overpowering us. His mint-laced breath fans over me like a caress, and I find myself swaying toward him.
Before I can completely embarrass myself and press my lips against his, he swiftly gets to his feet.
“I’ll, uh...” He spins away from me, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I’ll be out in the hall if you need anything else.
” With that, he drops the washcloth in the sink and exits the bathroom like he can’t run away from me fast enough.
I stifle a groan and drop my head into my hands. What the heck was I thinking?