Page 32 of All Her Broken Pieces

“Shit!”

“Everything okay in there?” I call out, pausing at the door before entering.

“Yeah, I just forgot to wash my face.”

I push the door open to see her struggling to sit up in her bed. “You really shouldn’t be doing that right after surgery. Here, let me help,” I offer as I slide a hand under her legs and back and lift her, carrying her toward the en suite.

“Put me down,” she protests. “I don’t need to be carried.”

I set her down on the counter in the bathroom and stand in between her open thighs.

“What are you doing?” she asks, a slight blush creeping across her chest.

“I’m going to help you wash your face. What do you start with?” She stares at me, a look of defiance in her fiery eyes, the pupils dilated so much that the rings of blue in her irises are barely visible. “I mean, I could guess and start digging around in here.” I point to a basket full of neatly organized products.

After several seconds enduring her death glare, she surprises me when she relents. “Fucking A,” she mutters. “I don’t normally let people see me with no makeup on.”

“I’ve already seen you without it, and you had surgery today. Are you telling me you wore it during that?”

“I didn’t, but I put some on earlier after you left. I’m not comfortable going bare.”

“Are you forgetting that I saw every inch of you bare and dripping wet in your shower a couple of weeks ago?”

She covers her face as she speaks through her hands. “Grab a washcloth from the linen closet over there,” she says as I grab two. “And everything else I need is in that basket over there.” She gestures to the basket on the countertop with eight different vials and bottles of varying concoctions, none of which look familiar to me.

“First, I start with the moisturizing cleanser. If you hand it to me, I can do it.”

“Nuh-uh. I don’t want you bending and twisting. Let me do this for you.” I squeeze a dollop of cleanser into my hand.

“That’s too much!” she says as I spread the cleanser onto her face.

“Not a problem.” I wipe the excess off her before dabbing it on my cheeks.

She laughs as she takes over, rubbing the product into her skin. “You missed some spots,” she chuckles as she reaches up to my face, working the soap into a lather. Her fingers light a spark everywhere they land, and I lean into her touch. “Soak the cloth in some warm water to wipe it off.”

Before I can wipe her face, she grabs the cloth from my hand and cleans off her face. I look into the mirror behind her and do the same.

“Next is the hydrating face wash.”

“Didn’t we already clean our faces?”

“Double cleansing is where it’s at, though. You can probably skip this step since you’re still young.”

“So are you,” I say back immediately, flashing her a heated look. It’s important that she stops seeing me as just my age, just a number. With a little more force than I intend, I pump the face wash into my hand. She reaches out to stop me, and the feeling of her skin on mine soothes the anger I feel. Rubbing the liquid between my hands, I massage it into her face, using what’s left to wash mine. If she’s going to use it, so will I.

I rinse out her washcloth, and she wipes the face wash off as I repeat her actions. Taking her washcloth, I rinse them out again, ready for her instruction.

“After we double cleanse, we apply toner,” she explains as I reach for the next bottle in the basket.

I squeeze some into her hand, and instead of applying it to her face, she reaches up and smooths it over my cheeks. “Are you blushing?” she teases me while rubbing it in.

“Am I? I can’t help it if your touch lights me up inside.” I smile back at her. With full dimple. And now she’s blushing. I rub the toner into my hands and work it into her skin, repeating the actions she took on my face. “And now we wash it off?” I ask, reaching for the cloth.

“Nope. Now we apply moisturizer, and we leave that on too.”

Replacing the used items back in the basket, I reach for the moisturizer and open the lid.

“You probably could skip this or use only a little if you have oily skin. I tend to have dry skin, so this is an important step for me,” she explains as she dips her fingers into the tub and scoops out the cream. My skin isn’t super oily, so I take a little and apply it to the parts of my face that I think might need it.

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