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“Really.” He kisses my forehead. “How about you?”
“I feel the same—happy. I get mad sometimes too that we waited so long, but maybe the timing wasn’t right back then. Sometimes I wonder if we had been together when your dad first got sick, maybe that wouldn’t have been our time. Maybe you would’ve doubled down on your fears, you know?”
He backs me into the shower spray to rinse out my conditioner. “I know exactly what you’re saying, and unfortunately, I think you might be right. There is one more thing I want to talk to you about.”
“What?” I close my eyes as the water washes down my head.
“Coming out. I have some red-carpet events coming up, and when we’re out together, people will assume I’m bringing my best friend, Clara. If I announce that you’re my girlfriend, there are gonna be haters. Virtual bullies who type whatever they want without considering the repercussions. Mean-spirited people.”
“You forget how long I’ve been in this world with you. I can handle it.”
He nods and I see the concern in his eyes. “It scares me. Because I’m public, people take it as me and anyone in my life are open game.”
“I’ll be fine. Plus, I live up here. It’s not like I’m down in San Francisco.”
He looks down his nose at me. “Social media is everywhere.”
“I know.” I wrap my arms around his neck, loving the feel of our wet, naked bodies pressed together. “I’m fully aware of what’s coming my way, but you’re worth it, Xavier.”
He sighs. “I really hope you feel that way.”
I pick up the loofah and soap. “Time for you to wash me.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Xavier soaps my entire body, taking longer in some spots than others. Once I’m done, we step out and he wraps a towel around me.
“Now sit in this warm bathroom until I say it’s time to come out.”
“I’m good.” I cough.
He leaves, shutting the door. I’m not sure how much time passes before he comes back in and brings me over to the bed. A pair of pajamas have been laid out, and he grabs my brush on the way out of the bathroom.
“You don’t want me naked?”
“I want you comfortable and warm. Put on the pajamas and let me brush out your hair.”
“I feel like I’m at a sleepover. Don’t freeze my bra.”
He shakes his head, but I see him opening his bag.
“Are the goods in there?”
“Sure are.”
“Put one on for me. Please?” I whine.
“No way. You won’t be able to keep your hands off of me.”
I laugh, which turns into coughing, which turns into choking. Xavier raises his eyebrows.
My shoulders sink. I know I need more rest, so I dress in the warm pajamas I usually wear during the winter when I’m alone in bed. I slip under the fresh sheets Xavier put on the bed, and he comes up behind me and brushes my hair.
“Remember when you tried to teach me how to braid?” he says, amusement in his tone.
“I do. You’d always complain.”
“Because I wanted to play in the treehouse or play football.”
