You're A Girl

Blaze didn't hesitate. He wrenched one of the knobs, sending a stream of cold water spraying from the showerhead.

"Get in," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

I swallowed hard, my pulse roaring in my ears.

"I—I can do it myself," I stammered, desperate to keep space between us. 

Blaze's eyes flicked up, something dangerous glinting in them. "You think I trust you to wash him off properly?" He reached for the hem of my shirt, his fingers grazing fabric. "Don't make me do it for you."

I flinched back violently, my breath catching in my throat. I can't let him see.