Page 95 of An Introvert's Guide to Life and Love
“Lean back,” he says.
I do as he says, extremely grateful for the Old Spice–scented bubbles hiding my naked body from view. I feel a gentle hand smooth my hair back before he slowly pours the water. My scalp tingles with pleasure.
He works shampoo into my hair, strong fingers massaging my head.
“That feels amazing.”
He continues his massage, and then says, “So, you want to tell me why you biked here in the rain?”
“Right. That.” I savor the feeling of the warm water slowly rinsing away the shampoo, of Daniel’s hand sweeping the hair back from my forehead. “Where do I start.”
“At the beginning?”
“Well. Yesterday, I went to Pebble Cottage and laid the new flooring in the living room.”
“You did?”
I nod. Daniel smooths conditioner down the lengths of my hair. I close my eyes, enjoying it probably more than I should admit. It’s like the heavenly feeling you get at the salon when the stylist washesyour hair, times a thousand thanks to the dash of chemistry between us. I mean, maybe some people feel that way at the salon, in which case, more power to them.
“Why didn’t you call me? I could have helped.”
“I don’t know, but I should have. Because I messed it all up. We’ll probably have to redo the whole room now.”
“What happened?”
“I started on the wrong side of the room and the planks got all wonky.”
“Ah. Well, that sucks, but it is fixable.”
“That’s the next part. I don’t havetimeto stay and fix it.” I explain about the HR email. “So, they found out that I’m not in Seattle, and they’ll fire me if I stay here.”
“Harsh.” He finger-combs my hair, his touch the opposite of harsh. “They already told you that you have to go back to the office. Did they have to threaten to fire you, too?”
“Guess they really wanted to drive the point home.”
“Well, point taken.”
“And then there’s Gramps.” I sigh, opening my eyes to stare morosely at the ceiling light. I can tell that even that, a cute little brass fixture, was chosen with care. “I’d been putting off telling him that I have to go home. But I told him earlier, right before I came over here.”
“How did he take it?”
“Um, he seemed fine, but—” I stop, my lips trembling as I try not to cry. “He was watching baseball. Which he never does. He seemed pretty into the game. And then I told him, and he acted fine, but then he went to bed.”
“You think he was broken up about it?” Daniel rinses my hair one last time and then twines it in his fist, gently squeezing the water out. I want to ask him to wash it again, but that would be weird.
I sit up a little, crossing my arms over my chest, just in case.
“I think so. But he would never admit that.”
Daniel peers into my eyes, his elbows on his knees. “You really care about your grandpa. I’m sure he can feel that. And I’m sure he appreciates the time you’ve spent with him.”
I shrug. “It just sucks that I have to leave. But this was supposed to be a quick weekend trip, and it’s already been over a month. It’s not like I was going to stay here forever.”
I lean back again and close my eyes. The water is still deliciously warm. If only I could stay in here forever, soaking my troubles away. Daniel doesn’t say anything, probably because there’s nothing more to be said. So my little vacation has to end, so I have to go back to my life and my job. It’s a privileged problem to have. I’m happy I had this time here. And now it’s time to move on.
I heave a sigh that may or may not be a touch dramatic.
Wordlessly, Daniel slips his hands back into my hair and rubs my scalp. I let out an involuntary, embarrassing moan.
