-1For a guy who never really went out of his way to groom himself or make himself pretty, Warren Peace sure enjoyed himself in the shower. This was his 'me' time. He made the water as hot as he could stand it, often steaming up the bathroom mirror and the skylight above the shower stall. He lathered up every inch of his tanned, toned body with discount brand soap. The suds slowly slid down his wet skin and spiraling into the drain.

Next came the shampoo and, more often than not, a shampoo-mohawk came with it. Using the tips of his fingers he massaged the shampoo into the roots of his dark hair, relishing the sensation as his fingernails scratched his scalp and lathered even more.

Warren rubbed the bar of soap between his hands creating a foamy lather that he rubbed onto his face, cleansing the impurities from his skin. He tilted his head to the ceiling, closing his eyes and letting the hot water stream onto his face, washing the soap away from his eyes enough to open them without having the irritating lather burn them.

No sooner did Warren open his eyes than he saw someone through the glass shower door watching him. He would never own up to being scared, but he nearly jumped out of his own skin.

"Jesus," He muttered, turning the water off and trying to make out who it was that was watching him.

"Don't mind me." Layla smiled, sliding the shower door open and giving her boyfriend a friendly wave.

"Did you pick the lock?" Warren looked confused, wondering how she could get through the apartment's door without him knowing.

"Actually, I grew myself a ladder." She nodded with a tiny smirk. "You left the window open." Warren nodded at the clarification.

"I'm almost done. I'll be out in--" But she cut him off before he could finish.

"Mind if I join you?" She raised her eyebrows smiling so innocently. For a moment, Warren just stood there in silence, his jaw hanging open just a bit.

"Yeah, um… Sure." What else was he supposed to say? He wasn't about to let on how much it thrilled him to see Layla in all her naked milky-white glory. He wasn't going to let a girl reduce him to a quivering little lump of gelatin even if said girl was a goddess in the flesh.

Her smile widened just a fraction and she peeled her green sweater off of her body and tossed it to the bathroom floor. She slipped off her long skirt and kicked her clunky boots to the side with ease. Next was her brassiere and underwear, leaving Layla naked as a jaybird.

She stepped into the shower stall so confidently, but inside she was being eaten up by her thoughts. Was she pretty? More importantly, did he think she was pretty? She knew the answer was yes. Boys don't act the way he was acting in the presence of girls who don't somehow turn them on. Still, a part of her kept asking that question and she wasn't certain what the answer was.

"Am I pretty?" She looked up at him with her big, brown eyes, biting her lip and making herself seem so young and naïve. Warren paused for a moment before answering. He'd learned through experience that when a girl asks such a question of a guy the guy is treading on thin ice.

"You know you're pretty." He almost seemed confused. Warren didn't understand how someone like Layla could not know how great in every aspect she was.

"Do you think I'm pretty?" She asked in a softer voice. Warren felt like rolling his eyes at her insecurities.

"That's a stupid question." Layla frowned a bit at the reply. "Of course I think you're pretty." But with that, a smile had replaced the frown.

Layla wrapped her arms around Warren and gave him a quick hug before using one arm to reach behind him and turn the water on.

"Ah!" Warren exclaimed, caught by surprise by a blast of icy water. Layla gasped as the stream of cold water hit her skin, as well. She laughed nervously, turning the hot water on and getting close to the warmth of Warren's body.

She reached for the soap. It was an ordinary oval of a thing, which didn't surprise Layla. He was the only person using the shower, now, and he wasn't a very skincare conscious sort of person.

"Do you have a loofah?" She looked up at him with a small smile before looking all around the tiny shower stall.

"A loofah?" He looked confused, but quickly figured out what Layla was talking about. "Oh, the sponge.. Thing." He nodded with a tiny smirk. "I left it at the hospital for my mom." He shrugged. "Sorry…"

"No worries!" Layla chirped happily, holding the soap up so he could see it. "We'll use our hands." It was said so innocently, but the thought of Layla massaging soapy lather all over his naked body with her hands wasn't exactly material for a G-rated movie scene.

She put her hands on his shoulders, turning him away from her. She let the water hit the soap, rubbing it under the stream of warmth to create bubbly lather. She rubbed the bar of soap in circles from the back of his neck down to the bottom of his back. Once every inch of him was soaped up, she used her fingertips to rub and massage him clean. Thanks to a nail biting habit, Layla's fingernails were tiny stubs, but it still felt good to him as he felt them scratching the skin on his back.

Layla wrapped her arms around Warren and stood like that for a second, her cheek against his shoulder blade. She turned her face to place a small but lingering kiss on his back and, although he couldn't see her, she smiled brightly.

She coaxed Warren to turn and face her with her arms. Warren looked down at her, a sly half-smile. He bent down just a bit so he could place a kiss on her lips. Though she was otherwise preoccupied, Layla used her hands to lather the soap onto her boyfriend's chest.

Just when she was about to do to his chest what she had done to his back, Warren grabbed her arms gently, sliding his hands down her forearms until the soap was in his hands. He pushed her red, wet hair off of her chest and shoulders so her breasts were in view. He created a lot of frothy lather, massaging her shoulders with his strong hands. She smiled blissfully, relishing the sensation.

It was too much for either of them to continue bathing each other. Warren let the bar of soap slip to the ground as he pulled Layla close to his until there was no distance between their bodies. He nipped at the spot where her shoulder met her neck, trailing kisses upward until their mouths connected.

With his free hand, Warren turned the water off. Without a word, the two of them stepped out of the shower trailing miniature puddles of water on the linoleum floor and making wet spots on the carpet of the bedroom floor.

Though they were still wet, the two of them collapsed on Warren's unmade bed, laughing at each other. It was needless to say that Warren's mind was free from worries about his mother. Even Layla could sense it, and knowing that she'd contributed to his happiness made her feel better, as well. Neither of them wanted any of it to end.