Good call, Karina. Because he so sure as hell wouldn't have.

As it stood, he was throwing his arms in the air, "Fine!" and stomping across the room (and almost on the furry roomba) to go for a quick rummage through his dresser for a change of clothes and a towel. See? He'd humour her. Because otherwise she was going to just drive him fucking crazy until he did the thing anyway.

"Lead on," he grumbled, clutching his clothes a little more tightly than strictly necessary. No, he hadn't bothered grabbing shampoo. Or soap. The water would so do the trick, right? He just had to get wet and then get dressed. Easy.