“And one more—make it a big one,” she added, traveling to my abs, tracing the barrier of the towel that hid me. “How does that feel?”

I hadn’t realized my eyes had closed. “Surprisingly … relaxing.”

“It’s amazing how a little bath can make you feel. I’ve seen it do wonders.”

She rose to my cheek again and then the other, followed by my mouth and throat. There was no pattern, just a slow, continuous pace, dipping into the water every few strokes so the cloth never got cold.

“You’re good at this.”

She laughed, the sound like music being pulled through the wind. Beautiful, soothing—nothing like what had been happening before she walked in here.

“I don’t get to do this too often—the CNAs normally do—but I’ll be honest …” She let out a large exhale before wetting the cloth again. “Things have been very stressful here, and I needed this break as badly as you needed some comfort.”

“I imagine things haven’t been pretty.”

“Most of us haven’t left the hospital.” She grazed my leg, and I instantly tensed, the electricity quickly setting on fire, my eyes shooting open. “I know it hurts. Don’t worry; I’m very careful.”

As she continued down to my toes, gently brushing over each one and across my arch to my heel, her promise wrapped around me.

My lids closed again, my head sinking deeper into the pillow. “Were you here when the bombs went off?”

“Yes.” She wrung out the cloth and went to my other leg, starting at my thigh. “I’m sure you don’t remember, as we gave you quite a bit of morphine, but I was there when you came in by ambulance.”

My lids snapped open, my head lifting to study her face through the darkness. “Turn on the light.”

Her massaging stopped as she reached behind me to pull the string to the small light. The glow was just bright enough to capture her stare, a blanket of brown gazing back at me.

Afghan brown.

“It’s you,” I whispered.

She stayed still while I studied her. “I can’t recall anything from before my surgery, except for your eyes. They held me like a blanket … I didn’t want them to let me go.”

As she went back to the basin, lifting the cloth and placing it on my chest, I was able to really take her in. Her dark hair was pulled away from her face, showing olive skin, a small nose, plump lips, and thick lashes that framed her soul.

My adventures had taught me that weather never lied, and neither did Whitney’s beauty.

She was fucking gorgeous.

“You were in such discomfort. I stayed with you until you went in for X-rays,” she said. “By then, the morphine had really kicked in, and you were already fast asleep.”