“Doe,” I snicker.
“I’m okay!” She can’t look back or down. Her head is sandwiched between her arms as she forces a pull-up.
“Just let go.”
“I don’t want to land wrong and twist my ankle. The step stool is here somewhere.”
She’s only two or so feet off the ground, but she’s so focused on the foldable platform she doesn’t notice that the boxes stacked above her are now leaning.
“Doe!”
“Ahh!”
The shelf buckles under her weight, taking her and the cardboard boxes with it. I run to her and dive at the last minute. The boxes pound over my back as I curl Miriam into me.
“Are you okay?” I’m panting from the adrenaline high.
“Yeah.” She swallows a heavy breath and fixes her glasses. “Thank you. Marcela must’ve stacked those. I was on my tippy-toes on the stool.”
“Let’s not put things where you can’t reach. You sure you’re not hurt?” I scan her face for any signs of discomfort.
“Except for your bodyweight pressing into my ribs? Just peachy,” she grunts.
“My bad.”
I push up to a squat and gasp at the cold air creeping up my thighs.
Miriam’s eyes bulge.
My towel is gone.
“Oh my—”
“Shit! Close your eyes.” In a scramble to not assault her with my dick, I pick up the closest object and use it to shield her eyes.
“Did you really just toss a box on my head?” she asks through a muffled cackle.
“If it’s any consolation, you’re still beautiful.” I tap the cardboard that’s swallowing her from the shoulders up and speed walk to the bedroom door with my nuts in my hand. “Don’t look at my ass!”
She giggles. “Too late. Hey, Antonio?”
I lean through the doorway and catch the dawn of a smirk. Miriam’s hair is a splatter of curls bungee jumping from her head.
“Yeah?” I ask.
“They have tanning salons to help with that.”
The melody of her full belly laughter surrounds the chaos of boxes and the contents of her closet.
“Oh, you got jokes about my ass now? Caramel doesn’t sugar cookie in the winter. Just for that, you can fix the shelf you suplexed yourself.”
The corners of her mouth ribbon. “My team’s solar-powered refrigerator system won a senior design competition. I can handle a shelf.”
Refrigerators were never a turn-on for me, but the way she’s talking has me hard again.
Down.
I clear my throat. “You want company? A safety monitor so you don’t take out another shelf trying to scale it?”
