"You're free," I tell him. "Don't make me regret it."
He gives me a look that saysI will absolutely make you regret itand disappears down the hallway.
I head for my room—Rex's room, the fortress, whatever—and lock the door behind me.
The binder comes off first.
Fuck.
The relief is instant and staggering. Like taking a full breath for the first time in hours. I peel the compression fabric away from my skin, hissing at the red marks underneath. My ribs ache. My breasts ache. Everything aches.
I strip the rest of the way down, grab a clean oversized t-shirt from the pile Phoenix bought me, and head for the bathroom.
The silicone cock gets rinsed in the sink. Warm water, gentle soap, the whole routine I've perfected over years of maintaining this facade. I shake off the excess water and?—
Actually…
It's clean now.
And slightly sticky from the water.
And I'm in a mood.
I pull on the t-shirt and boxer shorts, grab the cock, and pad barefoot down the hallway to knock on Rex's door.
"What," Rex says from inside.
I push the door open. He's changed into a fresh black shirt and black jeans—shocking—and is sitting on the edge of Rafael's bed, running his fingers through his damp hair.
"My dick's clean," I announce, holding it up.
Rex stares at me. Then at the six-inch floppy silicone cock dangling from my hand.
"Congratulations."
"I'm just saying. Since you were so concerned about lint earlier."
"I wasn'tconcerned. I was horrified."
"Tomato, tomahto." I wave it around like a pointer. "You know, for a guy who literally had his face buried in my?—"
"Donotfinish that sentence."
"—pussy, you'd think a little silicone wouldn't scare you."
"Nothing about you or the weird shit you doscaresme," Rex mutters, standing up and moving toward the door. "Youhorrifyme. There's a difference."
"Liar."
He tries to walk past me. I block the doorframe.
"Move."
"Look me in the eyes and tell me I don't scare you."
"Move, Bells."
"Say it. Out loud."