Page 28 of Need (Men of Inked Sinners #3)

OLIVER

I walk into the bathroom and find Lulu in front of the mirror.

“It’s worse than I thought,” she says, staring at me in the reflection.

I come up behind her and wrap my arms around her shoulders, meeting her gaze. I wish I could erase the day and everything that happened to her. “You always look beautiful.”

She steps backward and leans against me, resting her head on my shoulder. “You clearly need glasses, Oli.”

“Eyesight’s perfect, sweetheart.”

“I do look kind of badass, don’t I?”

“Toughest woman I’ve ever seen.”

“I’ve had a black eye before,” she admits, peering up at me. “Only once and only one eye. First time having a matching set. ”

“What happened?” I ask, wanting to keep her mind off what happened today. She’ll have time to process it all later, and I’ll be there to pick up the pieces when she does.

“There was this mean girl at school who kept picking on Zoey. She would shit-talk her every day. Zoey would always walk home at the end of the day in tears. I could only take it for so long before I decided I would have a little talk with Marly. That’s her name, Marly Milano.”

“I’m guessing the talk didn’t go well.”

“Wrong.”

“Then how did you end up with a black eye?” I ask, turning her around so I can undress her.

“What are you doing?” she asks as my fingers touch the bottom of her shirt.

“Taking care of you, and that starts with a bath.”

“I can get undressed.”

“You talk, I’ll do the rest.”

She stares at me for a second and I think she’s about to argue, but she doesn’t. “Marly was a talker, and I mean, the girl wouldn’t shut up. She thought she could talk to me like she did to Zoey. I had none of it.” She pauses for a moment as I lift her shirt over her head.

“Who made the first strike?”

“Marly attacked me with her mouth, so I introduced her to my fist. ”

I crouch down and work the button of her jeans. “Did she win?”

“Bite your tongue,” she says, placing her hands on my shoulders to step out of her pants. “She got the first blow, but I got the last.”

“Who looked worse?” I ask, keeping her talking as I toss her jeans to the floor where her shirt landed.

“Marly, of course.”

“Did you get in trouble?”

“I got suspended from school because it was on their property.”

“And your parents?”

“I was grounded for about two hours until they found out what Marly was doing to Zoey.”

“Did the bullying stop after that?”

“Marly never spoke to Zoey again.”

“What grade were they in?”

“Zoey was in sixth grade.”

“Did Marly switch schools?”

“No.”

“She didn’t talk to her for eight years?” I ask as I take her hand, helping her toward the waiting tub.

“Nope. Marly was too scared of me to even risk upsetting Zoey again.”

“I definitely got myself a tough girl.”

“Not anymore, though,” she says as she lifts a foot and holds on to my hand as she climbs into the tub. She hisses as she dunks her foot into the hot water. “It’s no fun at my age to be this busted up. ”

“It doesn’t get easier as you get older. At my age, I’m wrecked for days.”

“When was the last time you were hit?”

I hold on to her until she’s settled into the water. “It’s been a long time. I think I’d just gotten out of the service and had a huge attitude problem.”

“Shocker,” she says as she pulls her knees toward her chest and rests her chin on top. “This feels good.”

“You have blood in your hair.” I rub the stiff ends between my fingers. “It needs to be washed.”

“I’m too tired.”

“I’ll do it,” I tell her. “Be right back.”

She reaches out and grabs my hand. “Where are you going?”

“To grab a cup.”

“Oh,” she says, letting her hand slip away from mine.

I rush out of the bathroom and head to the kitchen, not wanting to leave her alone for long.

Zoey looks up from the pot of soup she’s already started. “What’s wrong?”

“I need a cup to wash her hair.”

Zoey’s eyebrows rise. “Want me to do it?”

I shake my head and grab a clean cup from the counter near the sink. “No. I got it. She was telling me about Marly.”

Somehow, Zoey’s eyebrows move higher. “She told you about Marly Milano?”

I nod. “Yeah. ”

“Lulu’s had my back my entire life,” she says, “I owe her more than a pot of soup.”

“That’s what family does, Zoey. I’ve got to go.”

“I’ll be here,” she says and chews on her bottom lip as she goes back to working on the soup.

Lulu’s eyes are closed when I walk back into the bathroom. She’s sitting up, knees to her chin, looking bruised and battered, but not mentally beaten. “Zoey okay?” she asks, always worried more about her sister than herself, which seems to have been a theme for their entire lives.

“She’s good. Cooking.”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” she says, opening her eyes as I pull over a chair she has in the bathroom for some reason. “She’s an awful cook.”

“Great,” I whisper, setting the cup on the edge of the tub.

I grab a towel and the shampoo before I settle into the chair as close to her head as I can get without climbing into the tub with her.

It’s too small for two people, and with the shape she’s in, I wouldn’t dare try to sandwich myself in there with her. “I’m starving.”

“Maybe we should call in a pizza. The bar will deliver it here.”

“They will?” I ask as I dip the cup in the water.

“They will for me. It’s one of the perks of being related to the owners.”

“If the soup is bad, we’ll order pizza.”

“It’ll taste like dirty dishwater. ”

“Ready?” I ask, ignoring the comment about the soup because I’m too hungry to think it’ll be anything except delicious. I’ve had bad food. The meals served in the military are barely edible, but you either choke them down or starve.

“Yes,” she says as she tips her head back and closes her eyes.

“I’ve never done this before, so I’m sorry in advance.”

She reaches up, touching my arm as I hold the cup above her head. “Just go slow.”

I do as she says, slowly pouring the water down the back of her head, using one hand to shield her eyes from any splash-over. When her hair is wet enough, I grab the shampoo, pouring a small amount into my hands.

“More,” she says.

“You can’t even see my hand.”

“The squirt wasn’t long enough.”

Again, I don’t argue with her. I could wash my hair with a bar of soap, and it would come out looking the same as it would with the most expensive shampoo.

Lulu moans as I work the shampoo into her hair, spending extra time on the ends where blood and whatever else has dried. “That feels so good,” she says, her voice soft and sleepy.

I let the silence fill the room as I make more bubbles in her hair, far more than I ever do in my own. I can’t imagine doing this every day. It must be exhausting. I could never handle being a woman.

“You’re good at this.”

“I’ll wash your hair whenever you want,” I tell her as I keep my gaze trained on her hair, trying my best to keep the suds from slipping down her forehead.

“I needed this,” she says, letting go of a long exhale. “But I can’t wait to go to sleep.”

“Soon,” I reply, grabbing the cup again. “Have to eat something.”

“I don’t need to add hangry to the list of things wrong with me tonight,” she grumbles. “If the soup’s shit, I’m going to have toast and crawl into bed.”

“Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

“Will you come with me?”

“To bed?”

“Yes,” she says, tipping her hair back farther as I pour a cup full of water down the back of her head.

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

She reaches into the tub, fishing out a shower puff. “Can you hand me the shower gel?”

I grab a small bottle of pink liquid, hoping it is what she wants. “This?”

She turns her head toward my hand. “Yes,” she says as she takes the bottle from my hand and pours a small amount into the ball. “I’m almost ready to get out. I’m getting hot in here.”

I pour a few more cupfuls of water down her hair until there are no more bubbles. “I’ll grab some towels.”

“In the cabinet near the sink,” she says as she rubs the soap into her skin.

Her bathroom is extremely organized. It’s not surprising that she chose it as a career. I’m lucky if I can find something after opening only two drawers in my bathroom.

“Grab two. I need one for my hair.”

“Got it,” I tell her as I grab two large towels from the cabinet exactly where she said they’d be. They were all perfectly folded into the same size, facing the same direction.

Lulu rinses the soap from her body as I take the seat behind her again with the towels in my lap. “Take your time.”

“If I stay in here any longer, I’m going to pass out from the heat.”

“Sorry,” I tell her because I filled the tub.

“Don’t be. I like it hot.”

I figured as much. I didn’t know a single woman who likes a lukewarm bath—or shower, for that matter.

If the temperature doesn’t match that of the surface of the sun, it isn’t hot enough.

I don’t know if it’s a hormonal issue, but there is a disconnect between males and females when it comes to temperatures of just about everything.

When she’s finished, I help her stand and give her the towel to dry herself off .

“Do you want me to dry your hair?” I ask even if I don’t have any idea how she does it.

“No. I’ll let it air-dry.”

“You’re going to go to bed with wet hair?”

She lifts a shoulder. “I’m too tired to bother drying it.”

“Again, I’ll do it.”

“No. It takes forever. I’ll deal with the mess tomorrow.”

“Okay,” I say, unwilling to argue with her when we are so close to getting out of this virtual sauna.

When we finally make it out of the bathroom, Zoey has the table set and the pot of soup waiting in the middle. “I kept the pieces small.”

“What is it?” Lulu asks as I pull out a chair for her.

“Your favorite.”

“Ramen?” Lulu asks, peering into the pot.

Zoey nods. “But I put fresh veggies in it, so it’s slightly healthy.”

Lulu smiles at her sister. “It’s perfect, Zo. This is a good way to end a shit day.”

“So, it’s edible, then?” I ask, earning looks from both of them.

“I know my limits, and it doesn’t involve homemade soup,” Zoey says, grabbing Lulu’s bowl. “I’m great at ramen, though. It’s one of the only things I can’t screw up. ”

“Miracles do happen,” Lulu says, touching her sister’s arm as Zoey scoops out the long, curly noodles.

“I’ve had a lot of practice, and it’s hard to mess up water, noodles, and their little magical packet of flavor.”

I don’t care what she made. I am going to eat enough to fill my stomach and then take Lulu to bed and put the entire day behind us. We’d deal with the fallout tomorrow or whenever Lulu is ready to talk about it in more detail.

Lulu and Zoey have a great relationship. They genuinely like each other. Liam and I have never had that. Sure, we love each other, but that’s because we grew up together. However, Liam and I have never had the same closeness as the girls.

Would I go to battle for my brother? Hell yeah, but that doesn’t mean I want to spend more time with him than I have to.

With every passing year, Liam has become a bigger shithead. My time in the military created the biggest wedge between us. I think Liam felt abandoned, and he’s never been able to get over the years I was gone.

“How many times have Mom and Dad called?” Lulu asks, moving the vegetables around in her bowl.

I grab the ladle, filling my bowl halfway, not wanting to take any food away from the girls. My time will be spent staying quiet, letting them talk about whatever they want .

“More than you want to know,” Zoey tells her. “They’re worried, but I told them you were in good hands.”

“Literally,” Lulu says, giving me a sheepish smile as she lifts the spoonful of carefully rolled noodles to her mouth.

“Mom’s beside herself that you didn’t stay with them.”

“I know,” Lulu breathes, “but they’d hover. And right now, I need space.”

“Do you want me to go?” Zoey asks, setting her spoon down in the bowl.

“No. No. I want you here. I need you here.” Lulu glances at me. “You too.”

“I’m wherever you need me,” I promise her. “For as long as you do.”

“I like this,” Zoey says. “It’s like having a brother.”

“This is nice,” Lulu says. “Not the other stuff, but this part.”

“Yeah,” Zoey says. “Do you ever wish we had a brother?”

“God no.” Lulu’s quick to answer. “It would’ve been awful. Boys are so smelly and annoying.” She looks at me again. “Not you, of course, but the others.”

“I have my moments,” I tell her, trying to keep the conversation light.

“I think after me and you, they’d had enough. The thought of another kid, especially a boy, would’ve sent them right over the edge,” Zoey adds.

“We were a handful,” Lulu says.

“Still are.” Zoey snorts. “The last few days are a testament to that.”

“Amen,” Lulu says, laughing with her sister.

“Were you an easy child?” Zoey asks me.

“What do you think?” I reply.

Zoey shakes her head. “Not a chance.”

“Liam was worse, but I was a handful too.”

“Liam sounds like quite the character,” Zoey says.

“He’s not as bad as Oliver makes him out to be,” Lulu tells Zoey.

“Yes, he is. You just haven’t spent enough time with him,” I reply.

“You haven’t spent enough time with our cousins. We have some doozies,” Zoey tells me.

“Everyone’s been so nice,” I say.

“They’re on their best behavior around you. You’ll see. They’ll show their true colors soon enough.”

“I look forward to it,” I say to them, hoping to stick around long enough to know them as well as I know my own family.