He doesn’t want to.
When the water at his feet runs clear, he turns off the shower. The curtain screeches back and strong arms wrap a thick towel around his shoulders, warding off the chill that prickles his skin into goosebumps. “Fixed it?” Blain asks—it takes Trin a second to remember what it is they’re talking about, the truck. He hugs the towel close around his body but still begins to shiver. “You had the parts?”