“Hi.”
For a while, we just stand there with the water running and her back against my chest.
My hands moving slowly—along her arms, her shoulders—like I’m memorizing her this time instead of chasing something.
She turns in my arms, brushing wet hair out of her face.
“Your turn,” she says softly, reaching for the soap.
I raise an eyebrow. “My turn?”
“Mm-hmm.”
She steps closer, hands sliding over my shoulders, working like she’s taking her time on purpose.
Like she knows exactly what it’s doing to me.
“You’re very focused right now,” I murmur.
She glances up, a small smile tugging at her lips.
“I’m thorough.”
I laugh under my breath, but it fades quickly, because the way she’s looking at me isn’t just playful. It’s something else.
I reach up, brushing my thumb along her cheek, and she stills for a second, leaning into it.
“Hey,” I say quietly.
She looks up at me.
“Yeah?”
And for a second, I think about saying something real. Maybe something that would probably change everything.
Then her phone buzzes on the counter outside the shower.
We both hear it, and ignore it.
It buzzes again, longer this time.
She exhales, her forehead dropping lightly to my chest.
“Sorry,” she murmurs.
“It’s okay.”
She pulls back slightly, glancing toward the door like she can see through it.
“I should probably?—”
“Yeah,” I say, even though I don’t move.
Even though I don’t want her to move either. She reaches for a towel, wrapping it around herself as she steps out.
I stay under the water for a second longer, letting it run over my face, and resetting.
By the time I step out, she’s in the bedroom, phone in hand.
