43. Mandy
MANDY
Istand in Hendricks’s shower with my head under the spray.
The first time I used his bathroom, I did it to fuck with him. The joke’s on me though, because I like it here.
Slicking my hair back and shaking the water from my eyes, I turn the water off and reach for my towel.
I blot myself mostly dry and secure the towel around me.
Before I step out of the stall, I pat my ridiculous purple poof hanging beside his black washcloth.
“You’re doing a great job, softening this place up. Keep up the good work.”
“You know you’re talking to a sponge.”
I jump, hand on my chest to keep the towel in place as my head jerks up.
Hendricks leans against the bathroom doorway, arms folded and ankles crossed.
My mouth goes dry, and I swallow thickly. “Poof.”
“What?”
“It’s a poof.”
His gaze goes to the counter where I have the candle burning. Then it drops to my towel before it returns to my face. “Why aren’t you using the bathroom down the hall?”
“This one is bigger.” I bite my lip, but I have to say it. “I like it big.”
“Mandy.”
“Does it bother you that I’m in here?” I let my gaze drop. The way he’s starting to fill out his pants, I don’t think it does.
The corner of his mouth quirks up. “You’re looking at the answer.”
His eyes move past me, and then he backs out of the bathroom.
I turn and take in what he saw. My toothbrush beside his. My shampoo in his shower. The vanilla candle burning on the counter. My poof. Everything exactly where I put it, like the pillow on the couch downstairs.
Something uncomfortable shifts beneath my ribs. He’s making room for me.
That’s his first mistake. Mine is liking it.