Very interesting. After watching her and the people at the party, I felt certain I’d somehow passed the pull I usually had, on to her. And, in the process, I broke my mental fish finder too.
The drive home only took a few minutes. Clay drove fast keeping an eye on me and the road. I continued to shiver despite the heat pouring from the vents. Sensing Clay’s tension, Nicole remained quiet in the back seat.
The sight of our darkened house relieved me, even if I did know we wouldn’t have any heat inside. Clay smoothly pulled into the driveway stopping by the back door. Nicole said a quick goodbye inside the car so Clay could help me inside right away. “I hope you feel better. I’ll see you on Tuesday.”
I nodded, my jaw clenched and aching from shivering so much. She hurried down the driveway to her own car while Clay stalked around the hood. His eyes never left me. I couldn’t look away. He opened the door and bent to help me out with concern in his eyes. Between the shaking, the headache, and the stiffness I felt from shaking, I had all the symptoms of the common flu. And I wanted it to go away.
Supporting me with one arm, we made it around the car and to the porch. My shivering increased to spasmodic as he unlocked the door with ease. Unlocking the door as a dog made this kind of move child's play. Much easier with an opposable thumb.
The quiet house told me Peter and Rachel must have gone out after all, which pleased me. I’d rather not have an audience to whatever decided to plague me. Slipping from Clay’s helpful embrace, I started tugging off the flannel making my way to the bathroom.
“Clay c-can you get my towel?” I asked, dropping the flannel on the carpet outside the bathroom.
Had I felt better, I might have worried about how that sounded. But, really, I just wanted to stop shivering.
He moved past me striding to the bedroom. His coveralls caught my eye again. I had to remember to ask him about those later.
I closed the door and struggled out of the t-shirt. Losing my balance as it cleared my head, I bumped into the sink. The chilly porcelain along with the cool air prickled my skin causing more gooseflesh. Curling the fingers of one hand on the sink for support, I lowered myself to sit on the toilet seat.
Tired and cold, I weakly kicked off my shoes and then began to pull off my socks. Without meaning too, I started whining like a little kid. I needed to warm up. Shivering sucked. The more clothes I took off, the worse it got. And it messed with my finger coordination making it harder to finish what I started.
Standing again, I tried to manipulate the button on my jeans. I’d just begun to debate if a hot shower was worth the effort, when Clay tapped on the door.
“J-just a s-sec,” I said in a panic. “I’m not ready, y-yet.” In desperation, I yanked the button free a moment before Clay opened the door anyway. “Hey!” I crossed my arms over my chest even though I still wore my bra. Sick and outraged I glared at him for a moment. It cost too much energy to maintain.
He tossed the towel he carried on the toilet lid and then moved past me without a glance. Pulling back the shower curtain slightly, he turned on the water. Hearing the patter, I wanted to groan and smack my forehead. I hadn’t thought to turn it on so it would warm up.
Then he turned from the shower, bent, and had my pants unzipped and down around my feet before I could move. I stared down at him in complete shock.
“Clay, g-get out!” Had I not stuttered, it would have been an impressive shriek. Instead, it came across weak and he ignored it. Embarrassed, I begged, “Really, I c-can do the rest.”
He stayed crouched by my feet, looking away, and indicated I should step out of the pants. Of course, he wouldn’t listen to me when I sounded ready to have a seizure from cold any minute. I looked down at his turned head so close to my belly and wanted to push him over. But my legs quivered and I knew I’d just end up falling over too. Obstinate man.
Sacrificing my pride for coverage, I used a hand on his shoulder to steady myself and stepped out of the pants.
Crossing my arms again, I demanded, “N-now, out Clay.”
He stood with my pants in one hand and shook his head keeping his gaze averted.
“The h-hell you s-say!” Oh, if my grandma had heard that, I would have gotten an earful and then she would have laughed because I’d learned it from her at a tender age.
I watched Clay closely as he reached around me to set the pants on the towel. Straightening, he pulled back the curtain, and held out a hand for me. Steam started filling the air as I stared at him with belligerence. Did he really think I’d undress in front of him?
He continued to look at the wall, patiently waiting for me. The shivers grew worse and I debated my stubbornness. With his hair pulled back, I could clearly see his eyes and knew he at least wasn’t peeking. I didn’t understand why he continued with his own pigheadedness and wouldn’t just leave to let me do the rest.