Page 80 of It's Complicated

When we were both naked, I took his hand and brought him over to the shower.

“I hate them,” he said as I stuck my hand under the spray to check the water. “I hate my parents.”

“I know. I hate them too.” Shoving the shower curtain back, I motioned for him to step inside the tub. “I hate how much they’ve hurt you, how much they still hurt you.”

I followed him, closing the shower curtain behind me, positioning him so he was under the water and I stood in front of him.

“Tip your head back,” I said softly.

He did, closing his eyes and letting out a soft sigh.

Being as gentle as possible, I ran my fingers through his hair, washing out the product he’d put in after the gym. When that was done, I picked up the shampoo and squirted some in my hand.

“Ready for me to wash your hair?”

He nodded. His eyes were still closed, but his body was relaxed.

I’d never washed anyone’s hair before, but it wasn’t weird or awkward doing it for Isaac.

It felt good to take care of him this way. To give him some comfort and share a new type of intimacy with him, even if it was something as simple as washing his hair.

When his hair was fully lathered, I tipped his head back and cupped my hand over his forehead, blocking the water so it didn’t drip into his eyes as I rinsed out the suds.

He sighed again and rested his hands on my hips, his thumbs moving over my skin in wide circles.

I tugged him out from under the water when his hair was clean and picked up his body wash.

Isaac opened his eyes.

“Can I?” I held it up.

He nodded again.

I took my time washing him, rubbing my soapy hands over every part of him I could reach, but I stayed away from his dick.

This wasn’t about sex; it was about comfort, and I didn’t want to make it seem like I was asking for more than sharing the moment with him.

He watched me, more life coming back to his eyes with each pass of my hands over his skin.

When he was all clean and rinsed off, he was smiling.

“Thanks,” he said softly.

“No need to thank me. I like taking care of you.” I pecked a kiss against his lips. “Now, how about we switch places for a second so I can get cleaned up too?”

With a soft chuckle, he let me tug him out from under the shower and squeeze past him.

“They always make sharing showers seem so romantic in the movies,” he said, some of his usual spark back. “But they always leave out the fact that only one of you gets to be under the water while the other freezes their ass off waiting for their turn.”

Laughing, I let the water sluice over me. I didn’t really need a second shower, but I might as well take a quick one since I was already wet and in here. “There’s lots of things that seem romantic in the movies that aren’t so much in real life.”

“Like what else?” he asked, his eyes full of life again.

“Like when a couple gets caught in the rain and declares their love for each other or have their big kiss while getting soaked. They make it seem so sexy, but rain is cold and wet shoes are gross.”

“You’re not wrong.”

“And when they use food to be all sexy in bed. Picking crumbs out of my butt crack or dodging smears of whipped cream on my sheets is about the least sexy thing possible.”

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