drawers under the bathroom sink. This minimalism bullshit is for the birds.
I curse under my breath.
My skin blooms with goose bumps now that there’s no hot water pouring over me. I hop from one foot to the other, trying to stay warm as I survey every available nook and cranny of the bathroom.
I could step out and put on my dirty clothes, but the idea doesn’t sit well with me. They’re covered in desert dust and Gardetto crumbs.
The closet is back toward the bedroom, and there’s no way I can make it there without Aiden seeing me.
I let my forehead smack against the glass door and decide I’ll just stand here until Aiden falls asleep then I’ll walk out and get my clothes. Thirty seconds turns into a minute. It feels like I’ve been standing here all night, and I’m really shivering now. I don’t think I’ll last.
“Are you almost done? I want to shower after you.”
With a heavy groan, I reply, “Houston, we have a problem.”
He laughs from the other room. “What is it?”
“I forgot a towel.”
“No worries, I saw them in the closet. I’ll bring you one.”
I lift my head up off the glass, my eyes widening in panic. “Just throw it into the bathroom and I’ll scurry out and get it.”
“You seem to forget I’ve already seen you naked.”
“Yes, well let’s not make it a habit, shall we!?”
A second later, a rolled-up towel flies through the air and smacks against the bathroom mirror, knocking it off the wall. I watch in horror as it falls, hits the vanity, and then shatters into a million pieces on the floor.
Holy shit.
“Please tell me that didn’t just happen,” Aiden says.
Inhuman noises fall from my lips. I sound like a distressed animal.
“Did the glass break?” he asks, desperately clinging to a morsel of hope.
“Yes! Aiden! Why’d you do that?!”
“What? You didn’t want me to come in there, so I threw the towel just like you asked me to.”
“I didn’t mean to chuck it like that. You threw it like you were starting for the Yankees!”
“Sometimes I don’t know my own strength.”
“Now is not the time for jokes!”
I start to pace in the small confines of the shower. “I’m stuck! If I step out, I’m going to slice my foot open.”
Glass is everywhere. Eh-ver-ee-where.
“Okay, don’t do that. Just hang on.” His voice is growing louder and then he just appears in the doorway of the bathroom—OH HELLO SOME OF US ARE NAKED IN HERE!
I scream and crouch down on the floor of the shower with my arms wrapped around my knees. My hair hangs down like a curtain around me.
“Would you chill out? I’m not coming in here to ogle you. I’m trying to clean up this mess.”
“Good luck. You’ll have to go get a broom or something from the main house.” He turns to leave and I hurry to add, “But don’t tell anyone what it’s for! I don’t want Stephanie knowing about the mirror yet. I need to come up with a good excuse.”
“Right. Got it.”
Then he’s gone, and I realize after the fact that I should have asked him to (gently!) toss me the towel before he left. Now I’m stuck here, still naked, still cold, still royally annoyed to be in this situation.
It seems like Aiden’s gone for ages. I start to hum a song to myself to keep the psychosis at bay. I consider etching marks into the glass with my fingernail as a way to count my days in confinement.
Then, finally, he’s back.
He has a broom and a dustpan.
“Oh thank god. Where’d you find it?”
“Stephanie got it for me.”
My eyes widen. “What’d you tell her it was for?”
“I said we like to role-play. You know, the whole naughty French maid thing.”
I choke. “You’re kidding.”
“Well, you didn’t want me telling her about the mirror, so I had to improvise.”
“Now she thinks we’re kinky.”
He shrugs, unbothered.
Gasp.
Maybe Aiden is kinky!?
“Have you role-played with girlfriends before?”
“Do you really want to be having this conversation right now?”
He looks at me with a quirked brow, and I remember my current state of undress.
“Right. Carry on.”
He nods then disappears down the hallway. In a second, he’s back with a new, clean towel. He walks carefully over the broken glass, crunching it under his shoes, and then cracks open the shower door. His eyes are averted—thank god—as he passes it down to me, and I waste no time wrapping it around myself.
“What are we going to say about the mirror?” he asks as he