AVALINE

"I told you I don't need a towel," his voice was muffled by the towel over his face. I smiled because he looked like a pouting child—claims to be tough but is secretly relieved that someone is doing this for him. He could use his strength against me if he wanted to, but his arms remained pinned to his sides.

But I noticed the change in his posture. It was as if he didn't know how to act—whether to push me away, scold me, or let me be.

When I wiped his chest, he stared down at me as ...