"Just a six?" Dean placed his hand over his chest as if it hurt to hear that rating. Though his tone said differently, amusement laced it. This was the most relaxed he had been since his Mom showed up. This was comfortable. Or, at least, it was for him.
"Nah, waiting for my clothes to dry. I didn't bring any with me, and I figured..." He shrugged. He didn't want to go home. Home meant dealing with more bullshit, and he just wasn't in the mood to do deal with it. He needed a break without the guilt that came with it.
He had washed what he'd been wearing in the sink. Which was a task he'd done more times than he could count, it their old life. He knew she'd probably done it a few times herself.