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I knew what she was asking—wanting.

So I did what I felt was right.

“Take off your clothes.”

She swallowed hard, taking them off one by one.

Her sweatshirt—mine.

Her t-shirt—also mine.

Her tank top—not mine.

She wasn’t wearing a bra, so her tits swayed with the rest of her movement.

Her sweatpants came off next—also mine.

Then her leggings—not mine.

She left her underwear on and said, “I’m on my period.”

My brows lifted. “Off. Everything.”

She took her panties off, which had a huge pad sitting right in the middle of the gusset.

She hastily hid it away, folding it in on itself, before tossing it into the trash can she was standing next to.

Her panties dropped to the floor with the rest of her clothing, leaving her blissfully naked.

“I’m going to be completely honest with you,” she said. “If I stand here too long, there’s going to be a puddle of blood on the floor. I went on birth control to help with my periods, but all it did was make them worse. Hence me stopping.”

I picked her up. “All right, my little ketchup packet. Let’s get you in the shower then.”

“What…”

“Thought you wanted me to make the decisions?”

She looped her arms around my neck and held on, not offering any commentary from then on.

I walked her into the shower once it was warm, relishing the way the water turned from cold to hot so fast.

“My shower takes four business days to go from cold to lukewarm. Then another three business days to go from warm to hot.” I stepped into the shower. “Then, I have about half a heartbeat to get in, get my shower done, and get out before it starts going from hot to cold. You never know what you’re going to get with it.”

She hummed against my throat. “You can use mine forever.”

I chuckled. “I might very well take you up on that. You’ll regret the offer when you see me come in the door with pig shit all over me.”

She laughed, and her small body jolted in my arms with her amusement. “Does that happen often?”

“More often than you might think,” I admitted as I stepped away from her to reach for the shampoo. “I think it happened just a few weeks ago, actually.”

“I saw the pictures,” she said. “I get on Facebook and lurk a lot on my fake account. You were covered head to toe in mud. I didn’t realize that it was pig shit, though.”

I chuckled. “Lindy at the laundromat really hates me.”

“I’m sure she doesn’t,” she said as she smoothed my wet hair backward out of my eyes.

I leaned down and kissed her, feeling my hair fall right back into my eyes.