Dear Rosie, (Love Letters #2)

The scent is masculine. And expensive. And rubbing the suds all over my body feels like I’m getting an olfactory hug from Nathan.

I do a once-over and rinse, then I snag the loofah hanging off the faucet handle and squeeze more soap onto it.

I didn’t want to get a bunch of… stuff on Nathan’s loofah. But this round is for me, because this shower is really nice, and I want to enjoy it.

Unfortunately I didn’t bring a hair binder with me, and I can’t bring myself to ask Nathan for one because I don’t want to know if he has stuff from other women around here, so I’m careful to keep my hair behind my shoulders and not get it wet.

Nathan is moving around the bathroom, but I take my time scrubbing myself down, even washing away most of my makeup.

Once I’m rinsed again, I turn off the water.

Nathan opens the shower door before I can, handing me the towel he hung up.

I take it wordlessly and wrap it around myself.

Then I look down.

This is the biggest, fluffiest towel I’ve ever used.

It almost wraps around me twice. The exact opposite of a hotel experience.

I squeeze myself with it. “Thank you.”

Nathan nods. “I have some clothes here for you too.” He lifts a small pile, then crosses the room to set them on the vanity.

“Um, I have clothes,” I say slowly, theobviouslyleft unsaid.

Though I do recall Nathan putting my underwear in his pocket… so I don’t think I’ll be getting those back.

Nathan shakes his head. “You can’t sleep in those.”

I blink at him. “I don’t need to sleep in them. I need to sleep at home.”

He shakes his head again. “Not yet. I’m mostly sober now, but I need a nap before I drive you home.”

“Nathan,” I say with exasperation, though I’d honestly forgotten we’d been drinking. The euphoria of what we just did overtook my buzz. “I don’t need you to drive me home.”

“I do. Now get those pajamas on and come to bed.”

“Nathan.”

He yawns loudly, drowning out anything else I might want to say.

I huff out a breath as he closes the bathroom door.

If I really wanted to, I could walk out of his fancy penthouse and order my own ride.

But… A groan leaves me, because I know I’m not going to do that.

I use Nathan’s extra-large towel to dry myself off quickly, then pull on the pair of too-long sleep pants and plain black T-shirt.

It’s not exactly a sexy look, but thankfully the waistband is stretchy, and everything is comfortable.

And comfortable is good, because I guess I’m taking a nap with Nathan.

SIXTY-TWO

NATE