I watch as he stands there with his hands planted on the wall of the stall above his bent head, so the water laps over him for a few more seconds, and then I start to slowly back out of the barn as quietly as I can manage. Before I reach the doors, he calls out, “Tell ’em I’ll be in shortly.” I freeze. “I could smell you when you walked in, Sophie.” “Smell me?” “Yeah, you always smell like jasmine.”
