"What does not having a shirt have to do with my crotch?"

Rekker eyed the Swede and sighed. He could feel his pulse pounding from staring at the singer. He felt the way he was being looked at and he wanted it. Rekker craved attention despite his mind telling him all of it was fake. It caused such turmoil.

He came back in from taking his meds and shook his head. "It ruins the jets and filtration."

That left one choice. Glancing at the shower he let out a breath and resigned himself to what he got for speaking without thinking. "Your hair is getting washed in the shower, not the hot tub."

And this meant he was going to have to strip down, either getting in the shower or when he got our soaked and covered in soap.