He shied away, refusing to look at me. “Don’t. I’m not clean.”
Oh, God. He’d really done it. I kept walking to him anyway.
He held up both hands and hissed. “Stop! Jesus, Reese. This is why we’re supposed to be just friends. This is why…God damn it!” He touched my face and looked me over, from my swollen, tear-stained eyes to my red nose. Then he set his palm flush against my heaving chest as if he could calm my stuttered breathing with his touch alone. “Look what I did to you. This is exactly what I wanted to avoid. I never wanted to hurt you. I would give anything to keep this from you.”
I clutched two handfuls of his shirt and balled them into my fists. “Then let me help you.”
He shook his head. “How?” He sounded broken and disheartened.
We shared a mutual ache between us. And the only way I could think to help myself was to help him and give him what he needed most. Drawing in a deep breath, I wiped at my wet cheeks. “Do you want to be clean?”
He glanced at me, his eyes crushed yet full of hope. “Yes.”
“Then I’ll clean you.”
When I reached for his hand, he let me interlace our fingers. I led him to the bathroom, and he followed without resistance.
He stopped a few steps inside and just stood there, staring at nothing, appearing almost comatose. I shut the door behind us and snagged the wire toilet paper bin that Dawn had sitting by the commode to tuck under the doorknob, keeping it closed.
“What a good idea,” Mason said behind me, his voice dazed. “Why hadn’t I ever thought to do that?”
I turned to send him a soft smile. “Because you need me around to show you the right way.”
He flinched. “I should’ve listened to you. I shouldn’t have gone over there. I shouldn’t have—”
“Shh.” I grasped the hem of his shirt and began to pull it up. “No more regrets. What’s done is done and we’re not going to think about it again.”
He lifted his arms to help me take his shirt off, but he still asked, “What’re you doing?”
“I’m giving you a shower. I told you I was going to clean you and—”
The words strangled in my throat as I took in the bright red hickey on the upper right side of his chest.
Catching my reaction, he frowned. “What?” When he looked down and saw the mark, he slapped his hand over it, covering the spot.
His faced jerked up, and he opened his mouth. I saw apology thick in his expression. On its tail came fear and revulsion.
I think the revulsion won out. He spun away from me, fell to his knees and slammed up the toilet seat. As he vomited, I turned away and covered my mouth. More tears fell. With trembling hands, I reached for the cup by the sink and filled it with water.
By the time he finished, I was sitting on the floor beside him, ready and waiting with a cup of water and toothbrush full of paste.
“Thank you.” He took the water first, swished it around in his mouth and spit. After a few more rounds of that, he began to scrub his teeth vigorously. And all the while, he kept his arm held over his chest, hiding the stain she’d left on him.
“I’ll get your shower water warm,” I offered, pushing to my feet and feeling robotic as I worked.
“Are you really going to stay in here while I shower?” He didn’t sound as if he wanted me to leave; he just sounded perplexed by the notion.
“I said I was going to clean you.” The truth was, I didn’t think I could be away from him right then.
Opening the door to the shower stall, I started the water, not caring how stray droplets coated my arms and began to soak my shirt. I held my knuckles under the stream until I had the temperature just right for Mason.
Behind me, he stood and put his cup and toothbrush away. When his pants hit the floor, I jumped.
Last month, I would’ve peeked. Heck, earlier that day, I would have looked. But I didn’t even want to now, and not because I was repulsed over the fact that he’d had his penis inside another woman only minutes ago.
I just couldn’t violate his privacy. He’d been violated enough for one night.
When I glanced back, my gaze landed on his face. “I suppose I can let you do this part by yourself.”