A Little Taste of Inside!

 

I looked over the scene, the late afternoon sun sinking between the trees in a dazzling display of oranges and pinks and yellows. The stream trickled peacefully, opening up a few feet away into a small pool, just big enough for one to bathe in if they smelled of shit, like Zane did. 

And yet, he hadn’t thought about himself for a second. He’d cleaned out the tub. Started a fire. Heated water. Then made up a lie to get me out of the house so I could soak in it. 

I dipped my hand into the wet heat. I’d never wanted anything so much in my life.

 

Tears pricked at the backs of my eyes. 

 

Zane seemed to know, and he turned away, heading toward the stream. “Enjoy that, Fawn.”

 

I frowned at his retreating back. “Wait. Aren’t you going to watch me?”

 

He turned back around, his eyes wide. “Because you want me to, or because my brother never lets you so much as piss with the door closed?”

I didn’t answer. The idea of him watching me bathe did something to deep-rooted parts of my body that hadn’t been stimulated in a long time, at least before last night. I had asked because I was so used to showering with the door open or with Eddie sitting on the closed toilet, his greedy gaze roaming all over my naked flesh and him touching me when all I wanted to do was be alone. 

Zane nodded in understanding. “That’s what I thought. I’ll be down at the stream cleaning up if you need me.” 

I watched him walk to the edge of the stream and kneel at the water’s edge, scrubbing his hands in the clear, clean water. 

He didn’t turn back. Didn’t even try to sneak a peek. 

With my gaze glued on his broad shoulders, I slipped out of my dress, folding it neatly and setting it on a patch of leaf-littered grass on the other side of the tub. A couple of towels I recognized from ones I’d had hanging on the line to dry earlier in the day already sat there, folded and waiting for me when I was finished bathing. 

It took me a long moment to stop staring at them. I actually physically pinched the inside of my arm, because my brain couldn’t comprehend that any of this was real. When the scene didn’t disappear, and with my arm throbbing from the vicious tweaking I’d given my skin, I then switched to frantically trying to come up with ways that this was a trap or a trick. 

But I couldn’t come up with anything. 

Or maybe, I just didn’t want to. 

Maybe I just wanted to be a woman, out with a man, who was selfless enough to do nice things for her.