Eventually, the pain rippling through me eases enough that I can stand without wanting to double over. Darius quickly washes while I grab my towel. Despite being mortified at the situation, Darius doesn’t seem as horrified as I would have expected.
He wraps a towel around his waist before removing his briefs and tossing them in the washing hamper. Kalen had set out some clothes for me on the counter, and I move toward them while Darius looks below the counter, rummaging around before pulling out a washcloth. He tears it in half before folding it.
“Not ideal, but it will do until I can get you in town. Or maybe rolled-up toilet paper?” he says, holding up the torn face washer. I nod, my cheeks flaming. But hey, at least he’s resourceful.
“Get changed. I will meet you in the room,” Dariu
