Page 108 of Flipping the Script

“Give it here. I’ll hold it and you can use a cloth or something instead of standing under it. We can switch when you’re done.”

“What about..?” I touched a bit of mud that was caked into my hair. “It’s going to drive me crazy if I can’t wash this out.”

“I can help you with that,” he said.

Not sure what the hell was happening, I pulled the showerhead down and handed it to him.

“Grab some washcloths and get in.”

I did as he said. He held the showerhead, pointing the water away from me as I used the cloth to scrub away the worst of the dirt and rain.

“This is so weird,” I said a few minutes later, sticking the washcloth under the showerhead to rinse it out. The freezing water made my hand ache, but I did my best to ignore it.

“This whole night has been weird.”

“Isn’t that the truth.” I scrubbed a smear of dirt from my leg. “So, what were you doing when I texted?”

“Nothing.”

I shot him a look.

“That’s not me being evasive. I was literally sitting on my couch doing nothing when I got your text.”

“Oh. Did you have plans?” I asked, almost managing to sound casual.

“Not really. Like I said, it’s been a weird night.”

I dropped the cloth onto the tub floor. “I’m done.”

“Still want to wash your hair?”

I nodded, feeling shy all of a sudden.

“Lean forward, head down, and cover your eyes.”

I did as he said.

I hated the little flutter that tickled my chest at the gentle way he wet my hair, using his fingers to comb through the strands and doing his best to keep the water from touching my head.

“Argh,” I grunted, jerking as pain exploded on my scalp and radiated deep into what felt like my brain.

“You okay?” He lowered the showerhead and let it rest against the side of the tub.

“Yeah. It’s like reverse brain freeze.” A shiver tore through my body as the pain lessened. “Fuck, that’s weird.”

“You good to continue?” He grabbed a bottle of shampoo.

“Yeah.” I wrapped my arms around myself as he squirted some into his hand and set the bottle aside. “Just keep your eyes up,” I said, suppressing another shiver. “I swear my testicles are trying to retreat into my body like a turtle right now.”

He snort-laughed and rubbed the shampoo between his hands. “As long as you extend the same courtesy to me.”

“Deal.” I bent over a little more, angling my head down, and covered my eyes again.

Carefully, Jesse worked the shampoo into my hair. His touch was gentle and practiced.

“How do you know how to do this?” I asked, breaking the lengthy silence that had fallen over us.

“It’s not the first time I’ve washed someone’s hair.” He bent to pick up the showerhead. “Ready to rinse?”

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