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doll.

Ro’s excitement turned into uncertainly in a hurry. She really wasn’t sure about this. Well, she was damn sure she wanted a shower. But the fact that Conan was carrying her, bride-on-wedding-night-style, across the threshold of a rough-hewn wood-sided building was ... unsettling. First the handholding, and now the picking her up and carrying her places. And when he picked her up, it was like she weighed nothing. Ro wasn’t a stick figure; she struggled to stay in a size eight, and definitely toted around ten extra pounds she could stand to lose, but Conan didn’t seem to notice.
    He flipped a light switch inside the building, and it worked! He sat her on a wooden bench in a room that looked, but didn’t smell, like a high school locker room. Complete with a shower room set off to the right with showerheads attached to the walls. No curtains, no stalls, no dividers. Ro would have dwelled on this design flaw a little more, but she was still marveling at the fact that the light switch actually worked. Where the hell was she anyway? Neither Zach nor Conan had answered her earlier question. Ro resolved to figure it out. Right after she showered.
    Conan headed back to the door.
    “Stay put.”
    He walked out of the building, pulling the door shut behind him. Ro took in the yellow and white tiled interior. There was a long counter top studded with sinks every few feet. A mirror, hazy and spotted around the edges, ran the length of the counter. The big lockers lining two walls of the room had cage-like doors, so she could make out the contents. It looked like they were mostly filled with clothes in the colors of the camouflage rainbow—all black, green, brown, gray, tan, or actual camo print. Except for one locker, which looked like it held ... pink bath toys ?
    A stack of white towels sat piled in the locker nearest the shower room, which was separated from the main room only by an ankle-high tiled barrier. The entrance to the shower area was at least eight feet wide. Definitely no privacy. At all.
    The door opened, and Conan stepped back inside carrying a brown metal folding chair. He walked to the shower area and set it up under the showerhead that was nearest to the entrance.
    How exactly was this going to work?
    Without saying a word, Conan squatted at her feet and unlaced the one boot she was still wearing before pulling it off, along with the sock.
    Ro was stunned that he was undressing her like a child. “I can do that. It’s fine.”
    “You’ll want to lose the hoody,” he said, as if she hadn’t spoken. Ro pulled it over her head, but left on the t-shirt underneath. She was not stripping down in front of him. Better to make that crystal-freaking-clear right now.
    “Um, you can go now. I can take it from here.”
    Conan didn’t respond, but swung her up into his arms again and stepped over the divider into the shower room and sat her on the folding chair.
    “Strip and toss me your clothes. You should be able to reach the shower knob from there.”
    Ignoring his order, Ro replied, “I said I can take it from here. You can go now.”
    “Toss me your clothes. You don’t have anything I haven’t already seen a hundred times before.”
    Nice.
    “Seriously—”
    “Strip. Or I’ll do it for you.”
    “Turn around.”
    “Fine.”
    Ro looked behind her to see if he complied. He had. She unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans and wriggled them off. She tossed them into the locker room. Followed by her shirt. Ro reached to unhook her bra, but then stopped. Did she really want to be tossing her underwear at Conan like he was some rock star and she was a desperate groupie? Not really. Not at all.
    As if he could read her mind, Conan said, “Just toss your fucking underwear, woman. I don’t have all night to fuck around with you.”
    “Then just go!” Ro shot back.
    “God, you are a frustrating piece. Just fucking strip. It’s not a big deal. I’m sure you’ve been naked in front of plenty of