Clearing his throat, Arrow said, “I came in here to see if you wanted to try to get those mats out of your hair. The guys found conditioner.” He held up a white bottle. Morgan brought a hand up to her head self-consciously. She knew how bad her hair was, had seen it firsthand in the mirror. She hadn’t wanted to take a pair of scissors to it, but was afraid it was going to be inevitable. “Sure. But I don’t know if it’ll do much good,” she told him honestly. Arrow stood and held out a hand to her. “We can try.” She liked that. We. She felt his fingers brush over her cheek in a barely there caress before he tugged on her hand, urging her to walk toward the bathroom. Maybe it was her time in captivity that made her appreciate the little things more. Arrow grabbed the ice bucket on the way into the bathroom. Morgan stood there feeling awkward as Arrow set the conditioner on the edge of the bathtub, then put his hands on his hips, surveying the room. He turned to her and gestured toward the tub. “Go on and have a seat…