Текст книги "Needing Her"
Автор книги: Molly McAdams
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Needing Her
From Ashes – 1.5
by
Molly McAdams
Chapter One
Maci
AMBER SLAPPED A hand over her mouth and had to work at swallowing her coffee before she burst out laughing. “Oh, I would have paid to have been there! Stupid night shifts at the hospital getting in my way of all the fun stuff.”
“You should’ve seen the look on Shelby’s face when Bryce pulled me in for a long kiss in front of her.” I grinned against my cup and drained the rest of it. “It really was priceless.”
“I would have even suffered through being near Bryce if it meant watching that skank get put in her place.”
I rolled my eyes. Amber had never been one to hide her hate for Bryce, and even though I’d never understood why she didn’t like him in the first place, it was becoming more of a running joke for us rather than her actually hating him. Besides, she couldn’t hate him: he’d inadvertently brought us together a couple years ago and we’d been best friends since.
It had been my twenty-first birthday, and somehow over the course of the night filled with barhopping and Bryce being . . . well, Bryce, he’d ended up with a concussion and we’d spent the rest of my birthday in the ER. Amber had been one of his main nurses when we’d finally gotten him into a room, and not more than twenty minutes later, my night filled with drinking and not much food decided to make a reappearance all over my shoes. In my still-drunk mind, I hadn’t even been upset about puking everywhere. I’d started crying because my favorite shoes were ruined and “favorite shoes can’t be ruined on my birthday.” Amber and another nurse had cleaned everything while I sat there crying like a three-year-old over my shoes, and when they were done, a pair of sequined Uggs were placed in front of me. Amber had told me at the time they were her favorites and I could borrow them so I could finish out my birthday wearing a pair of “favorites.” It’d been a lasting insta-friendship, even though she still wouldn’t let me live that night down.
She groaned and tossed her phone roughly onto the table. “I swear this guy is a machine. He never stops. I mean, never. If it weren’t for the fact that we have jobs, I don’t think he’d ever let me leave the bed.”
“Is this still Aaron? You said you two still sneak into the closets at the hospital . . .” I drifted off, my accusation sounding more like a question.
“Yeah, exactly. Machine. Let’s just hope we’re busy tonight, I need at least a twelve-hour break from that man before we go back to one of our apartments, or he’s going to break me.”
I shook my head sadly at her and almost chickened out of asking my question twice before finally blurting, “Do you actually enjoy having sex?”
“Is that a trick question? Of course I do, who doesn’t?”
“I just—I don’t know. In the books I read, these women have amazing partners and I know what I’m reading is fantasy . . . I mean, seriously, I get that. But I don’t enjoy sex with Bryce at all. It has nothing to do with wishing it was like what I read, it’s just really, really bad.”
Amber eyed me with a confused look. “Then why are you still seeing him? Maci, you’re hot, it’s not like you wouldn’t have a chance with anyone else. You don’t have to settle for him.”
“I’m not. He’s not even my boyfriend, you can’t settle for someone you aren’t technically dating.”
“Exactly! But you’re still not getting out there either because he’s always with you and stops anyone from coming near you.”
I sighed and twirled my empty coffee cup between my fingers. “I know.”
“You just need to drop him. And since you two only have this friends-with-benefits thing going on, it shouldn’t be a big deal to end it.”
“We’re not together because my brothers would flip if they knew I was dating anyone.”
“No, you just think your brothers would flip,” Amber argued. “There’s a difference.”
My jaw dropped and I looked at her like she was delusional. “Max Bertrand asked me on a date right before college started and canceled via text the day of. I saw him the next day and he turned and literally ran the other way, Amber. He had tape on his nose and huge bruises under his eyes!”
She shrugged. “Maybe he didn’t want you to see him looking like that.”
“He still runs away from me, you’ve seen him do it! Besides, my brothers fessed up to it.”
“Huh”—she looked like she was trying to find something to support her argument before finally throwing her hands up in the air—“okay, fine. They’re a little protective.”
“Or a lot protective.” I rolled my eyes and snorted. “Anyway, Bryce knows all that and is completely fine with staying how we are. Eh, well, for now.”
I knew Bryce figured we would be a legitimate couple eventually, but he was expecting me to change in that time; and there wasn’t a chance in hell of that happening. I was positive the only reason he was okay staying “just friends” for now is because he and I both knew his family wouldn’t approve of the way I looked. I didn’t fit in with their perfect country-club multimillion-dollar house, and I was more than okay with that. I had grown up in a loving home, and my mom always encouraged each of us to find who we are and be that person.
And that person wasn’t a back-to-her-blonde-roots, polo-wearing, club-for-brunch-on-Sunday kind of girl. It’s not like I was goth or grunge, or even some peace-pushing, tree-hugging hippy. I was just Maci. I’d dyed my hair a vibrant red years ago and never gone back. My nose was pierced with a small hoop in it, I have a few tattoos, and I cussed too much from growing up with older brothers—something that Bryce was always reminding me he hated—if that was enough of a reason for Bryce to keep me hidden from his family, then so be it. It just helped with the arrangement I needed in hiding him from my brothers.
“Tell me something,” Amber said suddenly. “What don’t you like about sex with Bryce?”
“The whole thing?” Amber’s expression deadpanned, and after looking around to make sure we were alone outside the café, I sat up straight. “Okay, fine. Well, first, he seriously lasts forever but however he’s doing it doesn’t feel good. Like, it’s almost painful. Second, I’ve never had an orgasm with him. Ever. I always have to finish myself when I go home or after he leaves. And, third, there’s never any foreplay—it almost seems like a business transaction. Take your clothes off, let him thrust for a while put your clothes back on and part ways. It’s the most awkward part of our relationship . . . friendship, gah, whatever-the-fuck it’s called.”
Amber was cracking up by now, and though she was covering her mouth to try to quiet it, her entire body was shaking and her face was turning red.
“Why are you laughing, this isn’t funny!”
“Seriously.” She snorted and her laughs got louder. “Oh my God, I’m sorry. Whew!” She fanned at her watering eyes. “Oh that just makes me hate him more. And to think, Shelby can’t stand you because you’re ‘with’ Bryce Anderson? If only she knew . . . if only she knew.”
I dropped my head into my hands and groaned. “I want a guy who pays attention to me for once. It doesn’t have to be this amazing, mind-blowing, the-world-stops-turning experience; I just want to enjoy it. Just once. That’s all I want.”
“Nope, I’m not letting you settle for anything less than your . . . whatever-the-hell experience you just said. We need to find a man who will give that to you.”
“Sure . . . yeah. Not even counting the fact that guy is probably only found in fiction; that would involve me sleeping with numerous guys until I find one who will give me that experience. Not only do I not want to be labeled a slut like some best friends I know . . .” I cleared my throat and gave her a pointed look. “But that also sounds like the biggest headache.”
“I won’t take offense to that because I love you, but we’ve got to get you away from Bryce.” She took a long drink from her cup and slapped her hand down on the table a few times. “Oh! Oh, what about your neighbor! That cop guy—”
“Detective.”
“Same difference. He’s all quiet, and intense, and . . . mmm. I bet he’d be good.”
I bet he would be too. I’d had the biggest crush on him since I was twelve and he’d starred in practically every fantasy I’d ever had. “Yeah, that’s not about to happen.”
“Why not? Is he married?”
“Uh, no, he’s not. But he’s Dylan and Dakota’s best friend. They all grew up together.”
Amber’s eyes glazed over, and a grin I knew too well crossed her face. “God your brothers are—wait! How did I not know he was their friend? Where have I been?”
“Not allowed near my brothers . . . ?”
“Yeah, but he’s your neighbor! I didn’t know you actually knew him. And you can’t hide them from me forever. They’re the only two of your brothers left who are available, and they’re identical twins. It’s every girl’s fantasy.”
“And this is where I throw up. Or pour bleach on my brain. Anything to forget you talking about fantasies and Dumb and Dumber in the same hour, let alone sentence.”
She snorted and rolled her eyes. “You have to admit your brothers are good-looking.”
I made a gagging noise the same moment my phone went off. Reaching for it on the table, I saw Bryce’s name and showed Amber. “Speak of the devil.”
“Let me guess, he’s lonely?” I made some sort of affirmative noise and she grabbed her purse as she stood to leave. “Tell him your vagina is no longer available. We’re officially starting our manhunt for Mister Awesome, and he can’t be in the running.”
“God, Amber, you’re ridiculous. We’re not starting anything and I’m not going to end . . . whatever it is I have going on with Bryce right now.” My lips pursed when I read his message.
Bryce A: Hey babe can I come over? Long day at work need to unwind
“He’s in the way of you finding anyone else,” she argued.
“I don’t want to find anyone else.”
Her eyes narrowed and she pointed at my cell. “I’m finding you someone else. Anyone would be better than him. I’m going to come over tomorrow with the first guy that shows up in the ER tonight just to prove my point.”
I laughed and shook my head. “Have fun at your shift.”
“We still on for getting our apartments all Christmas-ed out this weekend?”
“How is that even a question? Of course.”
“Just making sure! I’m going to have to warn Aaron my body won’t be available for an entire day.”
“That poor guy,” I said in a monotone voice. “How will he ever live?”
She laughed and blew me a kiss. “Later, sweetie!”
Looking back at my phone, I tapped out a response as I stood and headed to my car.
Sure. I’m on my way back, come over in 30?
Despite the complaints I’d just shared about him, I really liked Bryce. We’d been close like this for a while now, and good friends for years before. He could be sweet when he wanted to, and was protective almost to a fault when it came to me. I needed to stay “single” to protect guys from my four older brothers, but it still felt good to have a constant in my life, and to be wanted by someone.
Connor
“WAIT, YOU’RE LEAVING?”
My arms froze with the shirt partially over my head, and when they started moving again, my movements were careful as I finished pulling the shirt over my chest. With a deep breath in, I turned to look at the pissed-off girl. “That’s how this works, sweetheart.”
She pulled the sheet up on her chest as she used her other arm to sit up. “Then tell me what your definition of this is, because apparently it’s different from mine.”
Letting my hand slide to the back of my neck, I left it there as I shrugged. “I picked you up at a bar. I’d met you not even an hour before we left; I don’t know what else you could expect from that.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” she scoffed. Her face scrunched together in anger, but even in the dark room I could see the wetness gathering in her eyes. “What else would I expect from some prick who picks up women in a fucking bar?”
I focused on her eyes a moment longer, willing myself to feel something for making her cry. Regardless of not remembering her name, it should bother me to see a woman cry—especially if I’d been the reason behind those tears.
But there was nothing.
There’d been nothing since I’d returned from my trip to Texas six months ago. Just countless, nameless women who never filled a void that shouldn’t have even been there. Turning around, I slapped my hand over my phone and wallet resting on the chair, and walked toward the hall.
“For the record, douche, it’s called a one-night stand. One. Night! Not one hour,” her voice broke as she continued to scream insults as I left her apartment.
As soon as I was in my car, I pulled up the texts on my phone and tapped out the same message I did every night.
I need to know you’re okay Cassidy. Please call.
My thumb hovered over the SEND button for a few seconds before going up and hitting CANCEL instead. I dropped the phone into one of the cup holders and scrubbed my hands down my face before cranking the engine and starting home.
She’d briefly come back into my life more than six months ago, and was only there for a little more than a week. But that week had fucking wrecked me.
My partner and I had gotten the call six months ago about a house fire that looked suspicious—and later ended up revealing the bodies of Cassidy’s mom and stepdad—early that morning. And when Cassidy had shown up hours later, I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I don’t know if it’d been the obvious black eye she had, or if somehow, even during all the craziness of interviewing neighbors, I’d known that I recognized her—but she was all I could see that day. Days later, when I remembered her from a family-disturbance call I’d gone on years before, the completely innocent girl started haunting my every thought.
She was on my mind constantly. Knowing I’d made the wrong decision in not following up on that call killed me more than I’d ever be able to explain. With my past, and what my father had done to my sister and me, I hated knowing I’d let her live through years of abuse. And then she walked into the coffee shop that morning, and everything changed.
I hadn’t been big on relationships before officially meeting Cassidy—for shit’s sake, I was only twenty-five years old and had been career focused most my life. I’d had girls, and claimed a few as mine for a while, but something about actually settling down had always scared the living hell out of me. Not with Cassidy, though. With her, I would have done anything to make her stay in California with me instead of going back to her boyfriend in Texas.
It wasn’t just that she had a past like mine . . . that she knew what it was like to grow up being physically abused by a parent. It wasn’t just that she would understand my fears of turning into my father. And it wasn’t just the fact that she was the strongest person I’d ever met, emotionally—and in a way, physically. It was all of that, added to something that was just Cassidy. Something that the small and deceivingly fragile-looking girl exuded from deep down that drew me to her. That within minutes had me ready to make her the center of my world.
When she’d left for Texas, I went out of my mind worrying about her with her boyfriend. He’d been the cause of her black eye, and no matter what she’d said about it being an accident as she tried to break up a fight, I couldn’t get the sight of her sporting it out of my head. I’d gone after her, intent on bringing her back with me, and positive I’d find her looking much like she had when she’d come to California the morning of the fire. What I hadn’t been ready for was her telling me to leave, or how she’d relaxed into him when he came near her, like he was a safe place for her.
But I hadn’t stopped worrying about her, and no matter how many girls there were, and how many nights I’d tried to wash away thoughts of her with drinks . . . she was always there. Her honey-colored eyes and soft smile still haunted me, and it was a daily battle to not contact her even though I was dying to know she was okay.
I pulled into my spot and slowly made my way up to my apartment. I’d been so lost in my thoughts of a girl over a thousand miles away, I didn’t notice the one right in front of me until her voice filled the otherwise silent hall.
“Hey there, super-mysterious neighbor. You’ve been gone a lot lately.”
“Maci,” I grunted by way of acknowledgment.
“Where’ve you been?”
“Is that your business?”
“Wait, wait! Don’t tell me.” She stopped trying to unlock her door, raised one dark eyebrow, and pointed at me. “I can smell you from here . . . was her name Sweetheart? Or maybe it was Sweetheart.”
“Hilarious,” I said without emotion.
“Well I thought it was.”
I rolled my eyes and walked past her to my door. “Good night, Maci.”
“Yeah, whatever. Good seeing you too, Connor,” she mumbled to herself as she went back to her door. “Don’t ask how I’ve been, it’s cool. Asshole.”
“Maci.”
“Yes, douchebag?”
My eyes narrowed and I watched as she fought her smile. “You think you can try keeping it down tonight?”
Her smile instantly fell and her head jerked back as confusion settled over her face.
“I’m tired of being kept awake from your headboard hitting the wall.” When her gray eyes flashed, I unlocked my door and glanced at her again. “And you really need to work at faking it. You sound pathetic even from my bed.”
“You are such an asshole, Connor Green!”
“So you’ve said.” I stepped into my apartment and locked the door behind me seconds before I heard her door slam.
Heading back to my bedroom, I stripped out of my clothes and went straight into the bathroom for a hot shower. The girl I’d gone home with tonight had taken a bath in her perfume, and I could feel it seeping into my skin, causing a headache to form that had nothing to do with what I’d drunk earlier. Pressing my hands against the wall, I dropped my head and let the water pour over me as the tightened muscles in my body started relaxing. As soon as I reached behind me for the shampoo, the water turned ice cold and I jumped away from the spray, slipping in the process and barely catching myself on the edge of the tub before hitting the bottom. I scrambled to get out of the shower and when I continued to slip, grabbed the handle and shut the water off instead.
On the other side of the thin wall, I heard the water running, and loudly cursed Maci when I heard the distinct sound of her laughter filling her bathroom.
I slapped my hand on the wall connecting our apartments and shouted, “You sure you want to play this game, sweetheart?”
More laughs came from her side before I heard, “Hope you didn’t bust your ass too hard!”
“Turn the damn water off, Maci!”
“Enjoy your night,” she said in a singsong voice and then there was nothing but the running water from her shower.
Payback is about to be one hell of a bitch, Maci Price.
Chapter Two
Maci
TURNING THE WATER on in my shower, I waited for a good five minutes before stepping in, afraid that Connor would give me the same treatment I’d given him the night before. When I didn’t hear movement from his bathroom, I jumped in and stayed tense as I washed my hair and body, ready to get out at a moment’s notice if his water kicked on. When nothing had happened by the time I started shaving my legs, my body relaxed and I wondered again what was going on with him.
The Connor I’d grown up with was completely different from the one who had been hiding out next door for the last half year. He’d never been a very outgoing guy, but he also wouldn’t have let that prank last night go. Amber nailed it when she called him quiet and intense yesterday. Connor exuded this intensity that was somehow demanding and still managed to make you feel safe near him, which was probably why he had been such a good police officer, and now detective. But Connor’s way of dealing with most things was silently. The most I’d ever heard him talk was when he was with my brothers, but even then he was still the quiet and mature one. Almost like he’d lived a dozen lifetimes before and was simply going through the motions of this one.
But this Connor? The one I’d been trying to get a reaction out of last night was nothing like that. Over the last six months or so, Connor was no longer quiet and intense . . . he was gone. Physically and emotionally. I used to see him almost on a daily basis. He would always come into my apartment to use my Keurig because he forgot to start his coffeepot or was just coming in from a long investigation. I could count on both hands how many times I’d seen him in the last six months, and last night had been the first time he’d even said anything in months. He’d always been discreet about his home life, and shut down whenever anyone mentioned his older sister, Amy, but this was unlike anything I’d ever seen from him.
Shutting off the water, I stepped out of the shower and toweled off my hair and body before wrapping the towel around me and heading out to the kitchen for some much-needed caffeine. As soon as I rounded the corner into my living room, a scream burst from my chest and I clutched the towel around me as I tripped over myself from trying to back away too quickly. I landed with a thud on the hardwood floor and scrambled backward before turning and crawling back into my hallway.
My breathing was rapid and I covered my mouth in case the intruder could hear me. Not like he wouldn’t have heard my scream, or seen me crawl away; but at the moment, quieting my breathing was much more important. When I’d calmed enough to remove my hand without screaming again, I shakily peeked around the corner and a terrified cry escaped as I jerked back to hide from the demon in my living room.
All my worst nightmares are coming to life!
Do I scream for help? Call 911? Oh my God, my phone is in my kitchen! Good God, get a freaking grip, Maci. It’s not even real.
I slowly turned and eyed the offensive, life-sized blow-up toy standing in my living room, and tried not to start crying when I saw the white face, red hair, nose, cheeks, and lips. Forcing myself to stand and walk over to the object, I failed at calming my shaking arm as I reached out for the note taped to its chest. A whimper still left me when I touched it.
I hate clowns with a passion.
My blood boiled when I read the words on the page. I was going to kill him. Like honest to God, I was about to go down for murder.
Don’t forget I still have a key to your apartment, Maci, and I’ve known you most your life. I remember all of your biggest fears.
This guy is for the shower, have fun finding my payback for the headboard banging last night.
I really do feel bad for the poor bastard that has to put up with that.
Connor
By the way, you’re out of your little coffee-cup things.
I am so not out of coffee! I just went to the store a few days ago. Swear to God if that man took all of them, I wasn’t just going to kill him. I was going to kill him, then bring him back so I could junk-punch him.
I began storming into the kitchen, but when I remembered his words about another payback, I froze, letting only my eyes move around to find any other threats around me. Tiptoeing the rest of the way to the kitchen, I opened the cupboard that held all the K-cups and found two unopened boxes as well as one opened. I hadn’t moved them, Connor knew where they were, so why would he say they were missing? I reached up to grab one and immediately brought my arm back before investigating for anything suspicious. When it all appeared normal, I brought down a K-cup and put it in the Keurig before going through the same process in the mug cabinet.
Grabbing the handle of the mug closest to me, I took a deep breath in and pulled it out quickly, prepared for something to be behind it. Nothing.
I bet there is nothing else and he just said that to make me paranoid about my entire apartment. With a heavy sigh I started to slide the mug into the slot on the machine when I saw it, and a scream that rivaled the one I’d had for the clown filled my apartment as the mug went crashing down onto the floor. A giant piece broke off and the tarantula spilled out.
“Not okay. Not okay. Connor!” I screamed as I jumped onto my counter and kept pointing at it on the ground. “Connor help me!”
When a few minutes had passed and Connor hadn’t come in, and the ginormous spider hadn’t moved, I slid off the counter and opened up a drawer closest to me. Grabbing the tongs, I walked closer and had to try three times before I could make my arm go far enough to touch the now obviously plastic tarantula.
This meant war.
Running to my pantry, I grabbed a trash bag and opened it up before using the tongs to deposit the disgusting eight-legged beast in there, along with the two pieces of what had been my favorite mug. When the rest of the micro-shards were swept up and thrown out, I went to my knife block and took out the massive chef’s knife before creeping back to my living room. An icy chill ran down my spine seeing the back of the clown, and I just knew that little bitch was about to come to life any second and turn around on me. With two deep breaths in and out, I mentally pumped myself up for what I knew I had to do and charged it with a war cry, slashing furiously until it deflated into a pile on my floor.
After I returned the knife to the block, I grabbed the tongs and put Bozo the heart-attack-inducing clown in the trash bag too.
Still in my towel, I stormed over to Connor’s apartment with my key ring in hand. As soon as I saw that bastard, I was going to punch him in the throat, throw the trash bag at him, and then run back to the safety of my apartment. But there was another note on his door with my name on the front.
1. No, I won’t help you with the big ugly spider.
2. If you made it this far without dying, I’m proud of you.
3. Did you really think I am stupid enough to stick around and suffer the wrath of Maci?
Yes. Yes, I did. And I’d lied about him being the mature one. I went back to my apartment completely defeated and exhausted even though I’d only been awake for an hour. And there was no way in hell I was about to check the rest of my coffee mugs to see if they were safe.
Grabbing my phone, I dialed the number at my office and waited until someone answered.
“Yep?”
“You know, if I can’t answer the phone with a yep then you shouldn’t be able to either.”
There was a beat of silence. “Are you on your way in?”
“Pfft. No, I have things I need to get done today,” I said as I grabbed underwear and a pair of jeans, and put them on.
“Like what? We need you here answering the phone, Maci.”
“Dakota, you did just fine answering it this time, and hardly anyone ever calls the office phone anyway. They all call our cell phones.” I put my phone on speaker and placed it down on my dresser as I grabbed a bra and angrily clasped it on. “I already told you I have things I need to do. So I’m not coming in to just sit there and play solitaire and Minesweeper.”
“This is Dylan, and what’s so important that you can’t come in?”
I stood up quickly from grabbing the shirt that I’d just dropped on the floor and glared at my phone as I thought back through our conversation. That little bastard. “If I wanted you to know what I was doing, I would have already told you. Just tell Dad I’m cramping or something, he won’t want to hear anything else. And don’t bullshit me, Dakota. Dylan only calls me ‘Mini,’ you’re losing your touch, bro.”
“Maybe I call you both. You don’t know me . . . you don’t know what’s in my head. Maybe I’ll call you Mack tomorrow.”
And this is why I never understood anyone’s attraction to my brothers. Rolling my eyes, I grabbed my phone off the dresser and spoke over him as he continued to ramble. “Good-bye, Dakota!”
After rushing through putting on deodorant and brushing my teeth, I threw my wet hair up in a messy bun, and didn’t even bother with makeup before heading out. There was no time for that. I had shit I needed to get done.
First things first . . . I needed to stop at a Starbucks, like, ten minutes ago.
Connor
THE NOTE WAS still taped to my front door when I got home later that night, but that wasn’t saying much. Maci had keys to my place too. I was surprised that my door didn’t have holes in it, though.
Cracking open my door cautiously, I inspected the small gap, looking for any kind of line or thread, and when I didn’t find any, I flung the door open and stepped back.
Nothing.
What the hell? Doors are Maci’s signature move . . . well, other than freezing my ass in the shower. I took silent and careful steps in as I looked around, inspecting every part of my apartment as I made my way to my bedroom. Going so far as to lift up the sofa cushions, and looking under the bed. But there was nothing.
Had the clown and spider scared her that bad? It wasn’t like she didn’t deserve it, and, hell, I’d been saving those for almost a year now since I’d played my last prank on her. If I hadn’t made sure her car was gone before I came back, I would have wondered if I’d actually given her a heart attack.
I’d just stripped out of my clothes and was walking into my bathroom when I heard a door shut. It could have been any of our neighbors, but knowing that it could be Maci, I jumped in the shower, turned on the water, and had the shampoo bottle in my hand within seconds. There was no way she was ruining two showers in a row.
The water didn’t start right away like I’d been expecting, and it made a weird noise before it sprayed out on me; but by then, I’d already turned around to inspect it. A string of expletives left me, and it took me a few seconds before I reached for the handle to turn off the water . . . but a few seconds was still too late. I had green, sticky water all over me. Grabbing for the showerhead, I twisted it off and brought it down to inspect it. There were green chunks in the base and after a few sniffs I yelled and slammed my fist against the wall.
“Kool-aid, Maci? Fucking Kool-Aid? This stuff stains—oh shit!”
I turned the water back on and lifted the lever so the bath faucet ran instead. When I had as much of the leftover Kool-Aid powder out of the showerhead as possible, I screwed it back on and turned the shower on. Reaching for my body wash, I flipped open the top and tipped it over to pour some into my hand.
