Her eyebrows lift; her mouth goes flat in a muted smile. “And you probably want to shower, right?” I go still. “What?” She knows. My gut hardens. Fuck. How long has she known? How much does she know? Does she know everything? Her mouth twists and she rolls her eyes. “Every time you touch me, you race to the shower after to wash my germs off.” Is that what she thinks? That I think she’s gross or something?
