Page 70 of Forget That Guy
I turned the shower on for her, then all but shoved her inside when she looked like she wasn’t going to get in there on her own.
She blinked at me owlishly as her entire body got soaked, clothes included.
“Get showered,” I ordered as my hands itched to start yanking wet clothes and shoes off. “Or do you want me to help?”
Her first instinct was to say no, I could see it on her face, but then she wilted. “I need help. My head’s throbbing.”
I lifted her shirt free and tossed it into the bottom of the shower, then moved to her leggings and shoes.
When she was standing in her panties, I twisted her around and eased her hair out of the low ponytail she had it in.
My fingers itched to reach for her bra strap or the hem of her panties.
I tried and failed not to pay attention to her body.
It was delectable.
Smooth, pale skin. Supple curves. Ass.
Tits.
God, all of those features would feel so good rubbing against me.
But this was not the time.
Not when she looked like she was about to fall over.
“You got your hair?” I asked.
She nodded but winced.
“Should we go to the doctor?” I asked.
She shook her head. “I passed out. I have a low-grade concussion. But I’m okay.”
Seeing as she knew more shit medically than I ever would, I decided to trust her and said, “I’m going to get you some clothes. I’ll be back in here in ten minutes to help you dress.”
She nodded, throat working as she swallowed.
I headed out the door, leaving it cracked, and found the girls downstairs waiting.
I gave them a quick rundown of what happened, not leaving anything out. Some might ask why I treated my daughters like they were adults, but I’d found that the more information you were armed with, even as a child, the better you could handle any situations that arose.
And this situation was bound to have some major fallout.
“I’ll go get her clothes,” DeeDee said. “I have to get Froto anyway. We took him back home in case she came in late.”
I let her go, deciding to change my own clothes in the laundry room.
Once I was dressed again, DeeDee was back with clothes, and Joe was waiting with a cup of coffee and some donuts.
“We made them while you were gone, they’re still really fresh,” Joe explained.
I took the small bag and coffee upstairs along with Holly’s clothes and found her sitting on my bed with a towel wrapped around her looking lost.
She saw me coming and sighed. “Is that donuts?”
“Yep. Homemade,” I explained. “You ready to go?”
