most of the sun, but it’s stifling hot. I can barely draw a breath. I leave the door open to let some of the hot air out and make my way over to the little controls on the wall near the fridge to turn the air unit on. The clock on the microwave tells me I have less than an hour to shower before I need to leave to make it to work on time. I gather my shower caddy and a fresh set of clothes, locking the door behind me as I go to the bathhouse.
Pushing open the heavy red door, I peer around to see if I am alone. I haven’t really had much company back here, so I don’t feel guilty when I throw the deadbolt, locking myself in. It’s a stark reminder at the differences between the guys and me. I couldn’t see Ares stepping foot in a place like this, not with his fancy vest and shoes. Ollie would find some way to make it into a joke.
The first stall doesn’t work, I know because I tried it already, but I push back the yellow rubber curtain anyway. The floor is dry, as are the walls.
I set my stuff on the tiny wooden slats that make up a bench just outside the shower area of the next cubby. The curtain makes a loud screech as I pull it closed behind me. I always check the roof vents and floor grates for any sign of cameras before stripping out of my worn clothes. You never know what kind of creeps hang out in these places.
At least the water is hot when I finally dip into the spray. I’m relieved this isn’t one of the places you have to buy a token for the shower to work, or where you have to keep pressing the button every five seconds so the water keeps coming out.
My dollar store flipflops slap against the tiled ground with every move I make, echoing through the room. It doesn’t take me long to shampoo and condition my hair, scrub my body, and rinse.
I’m wrapped in a threadbare towel when I hear the handle of the main door jiggle. “Sorry, I locked it! Just a minute,” I shout to be heard. Dropping the towel, I shove my damp legs into my jeans. I have to jump several times to get them all the way up, then I throw my shirt on, I tuck my clean underwear back into my basket, intending to finish getting dressed at the trailer. Lastly, I gather my dirty stuff and wrap it in my used towel.
I’m out of breath when I unlock the door, pulling it open seconds later. Ares is standing in front of me, with his arms folded over his chest. The white button down shirt and vest are gone, replaced with a fitted black t-shirt, dark jeans and black boots. If I hadn’t met him yesterday, I’d probably be slamming the door back in his face and locking it. His narrowed eyes scan me from head to toe then back up again. When his eyes meet mine, his nostrils flare and his lips pinch tight. The darkness starts to creep over his irises, concealing the pretty orange flecks.
“What?” My hands are full, so I can’t give him the same pissed off pose he’s giving me, but after the shock of seeing him wears off, I give him the best fuck off face I can muster.
Ares’s hands reach out and he grabs my bundled up towel from me. He goes for the bath caddy too, but I don’t release the handle. We have a mini stare down during the tug of war that has him baring his teeth at me. He finally lets go and I almost stumble backwards from the force, I was pulling that hard.
“Why are you here?” I question him again when he shows no sign of answering my first question. I look around behind him, making sure Mike, the camp host, isn’t witnessing our exchange.
Ares closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Apparently, my brothers aren’t capable of keeping track of you.”
I lean forward my voice tight. “No one will be keeping track of me.” I reach out with every intention of stealing the towel back, but Ares grabs my wrist and pulls me forward. I collide with his torso and bounce back a step. He doesn’t release me.
My mouth falls open in outrage, and I can’t believe he thinks he