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Allison Reynolds’ head lolled backwards, her eyes drooping drowsily. The fresh scent of citrus clouded her senses; Renee’s shampoo sat open on the ridge beside her.
She’d woken up hot, sweaty, and a bit delirious.
She’d woken bare, exposed.
Vulnerable. Allison Reynolds was not vulnerable.
Her ever-evolving, and newly romantic, relationship with Renee Walker was fragile. They were still toying with this tangible, new dynamic between them. She knew Renee had seen her through grief, through anger and jealousy, she knew the ugly, festering parts she kept close to her chest.
To be helpless, sick, in front of her was uncharted territory.
Renee ran her fingers through Allison’s hair, deemed her “under the weather”, and texted Dan that she’d be late to morning practice. Allison would be skipping practice.
Renee had barred her from her morning workout, brought her fruit and a glass of cold water, and then promptly hauled her into the shower.
Citrus. The scent steadied her. The drag of Renee’s nails against her scalp made Allison blink slowly, and she turned to make eye contact with her.
Groggily, she said, “Do you have to go to practice?”
Renee pulled Allison tighter against the front of her bare chest and ran her fingers down her shoulder blades. “Someone has to make sure our Foxes don’t kill one another.”
“Neil’s got it covered,” Allison shrugged. She turned and pressed a kiss to Renee’s cheek.
“Neil may kill Jack. He’s not known for his restraint.” Renee gently maneuvered Allison so they were face-to-face. “Lean back,” she said, “Time to rinse.”
“I like the scent,” Allison hummed, her eyes closed, “Citrus. Not as good as my hair products, but… reminds me of you.”
“You need rest, Alli,” Renee smiled, tucking her now-washed hair beyond her ear. “Let’s get you out, okay?”