"Uh-huh."
"We can!"
I didn't continue to argue, just gestured toward the back door so she would unlock it.
Cam grumbled beneath her breath as she stuck the key in the lock and let us inside the kitchen. She set about turning on lights and getting ready for the day when her phone chimed.
I watched her as she glanced at it, noting the way her face softened and she smiled. I tiptoed closer and glanced at her screen. Though I had a pretty good idea who was texting her, I made a show of asking, "Who's HBA?"
Cam jumped and glared at me. "What the hell, Sierra?! You scared me!"
"Who's HBA?" I repeated.
She was already staring down at the screen when she answered. "Brody."
"What's that mean?"
"Hot but annoying," she answered, understanding exactly what I was asking without explanation.
I let loose a hoot of laughter. "I knew you still had a thing for him."
"Acknowledging someone's hotness isn't the same as having a thing for them. It's like appreciating a work of art. You can think it's pretty without wanting to bone it."
She sounded so prim and disapproving I couldn't resist repeating the one phrase I knew would annoy her. "If you say so."
Again, it might be immature of us, but we could keep arguments like this going for hours. It was like a hobby.
In an unusual response, Cam just walked away, already typing a reply to Brody on her phone. I watched her as she messaged back and forth with him for a few minutes and waited until she pocketed her phone before I called out, "You're totally gonna bone!"
Cam flipped me off. "Quit your Wicked Witch of the West impression and get to work," she griped.
"Cam and Brody, sittin' in a tree..." I sang.
Before I could comprehend what she intended to do, Cam was holding the spray nozzle from the sink and shooting cold water at me. Somehow I managed to dodge most of the spray but the bottom edges of my shorts were soaked.
"Dammit, Cam! Now it looks like I peed my pants! You are so dead!" I hollered.
She waved the nozzle toward me in a threatening way. "Bring it."
It seemed I would have to bide my time before seeking revenge. "I thought we were here to work, not goof off."
As far as distractions went, it was weak but it got the job done.
"Truce while we're at the shop?" she asked.
"Fine. But once we walk out that door, watch your back."
"I'm shaking in my flip flops," she said.
"Shut up and get me a towel."
"I can do better than that. I have a washer/dryer combo in the storage room. You can toss your shorts in there for a little bit."
"And wear what?" I asked. I was glad I'd be able to dry my shorts but I was not walking around the store in nothing but a tank top and my underwear.
"I have a pair of athletic shorts in my gym bag."
"You don't belong to a gym," I pointed out as I followed her down the hall toward the office.
