“What did you expect? A striptease?” I say, turning on the water.
“A man can only dream.”
“Eyes closed, dreamer.”
“They’re closed. Scout’s honor.”
I undress quickly and step into the shower. “Okay, you can open them. Tell me about your afternoon. What did you do after you dropped me off?”
“Spent an hour arranging those bear pillows you made me buy,” I say.
“Please tell me you took a picture,” I say, as I scrub away the remnants of a day in the life of a barista.
“No, I absolutely didn’t document my pillow arrangement.”
“Should have. It’s always nice to have evidence that you’re being a real human. And you could’ve updated your Phase One slides for your PowerPoint presentation.”
“Harsh.” I can hear him shifting on the toilet lid. “Oh, I picked up a coffee maker.”
“Why? I saw one on the counter at the cabin.”
“I bought a normal one that makes normal coffee for normal people.”
“Look at you, embracing your inner basic bitch. I love this for you.”
“Is that what we’re calling it?”
“Of course. You’re giving up your rich people’s elitist ways and living a humble, regular-coffee-maker life. But I’ll be honest with you, an espresso machine is a must. It’s one thing I’m a total snob about. But then again, caffeine runs in my veins.”
Nick howls with laughter as I finish rinsing my hair and washing my body.
“Can you grab me a towel? In the closet next to you.”
I hear him moving around, then laughing.
“Jules?”
“Yeah?”
“Why do you have seven bottles of the same shampoo?”
“It was on sale, and I had coupons! That stuff is expensive. Stop judging me and hand me a towel.”
The shower curtain moves, and his hand appears with a fluffy towel, his eyes comically squeezed shut.
“You look ridiculous.” I laugh, taking it, patting the water from my face.
“I’m just being respectful.”
“I guess.” I wrap the towel around myself and step out. “You can open them.”
He opens one eye cautiously, then both, and his gaze does a quick sweep before he deliberately focuses on my face. “Hi.”
“Hi, yourself. Come keep me company while I figure out what to wear.”
“So bossy,” he says.
“Does it bother you?” I ask.
