He moves to a box of tools off to the corner of the bathroom, digging through it before pulling out a package of candy. He looks over at me before tossing me the pack. I’m unsure what to think, catching it with ease as I roll it over in my hands. I notice it’s already open.
“Are you a fan of Sour Patch Kids, too?” I ask with a laugh. “Feels like half the bag is gone.”
“I’m more of a sweets guy,” he says, still digging through the box in front of him. “Donuts and cinnamon buns are definitely my thing.”
I tilt my head to the side, and look into the package of candy. I stare down and notice there’s no yellow or green. My fingers go cold around the bag. It’s such a stupid thing. It’s candy. It’s Sour Patch Kids. It’s the kind of detail that shouldn’t matter in a space where we’re supposed to be worried about the pink tub that’s offended him.
But it matters.
Because it means he remembered I don’t eat the yellow or green ones.
“So…the yellows and greens just vanished on their own?”
Tucker finally looks up, shrugging like it’s nothing. “Figured you wouldn’t miss them.”
I swallow, blinking. “You remember that?”
He hesitates—just for a moment and then nods. “Yeah. I remember.”
I look down at the candy again, picking out a blue and popping it in my mouth. “Thank you,” I say quietly.
“You’re welcome,” he says, going back to digging in his box.
I stuff the rest of the candy in the pocket of my overalls as hefinds a couple of sponges. He tosses me one, and I catch it even though I’m caught off guard.
I kneel by the tub and he takes the spot next to me.
Too close.
Always too close.
We start scrubbing in silence, tension swirls around us. It’s so thick that I’m having difficulty breathing. Every so often, his arm brushes mine by accident, heating my skin. I feel myself scrubbing harder and faster. Subconsciously, I think I just want to get this done faster, so I can stop pretending. I’ve been doing it all fucking day, and I’m exhausted. I want to breathe.
“You’re going to ruin the finish if you keep scrubbing that hard,” Tucker says.
I stop scrubbing and narrow my eyes at him. “Why do you care? You hate this tub.”
“Because you do.”
The words come out so quickly, like he didn’t have to think about them. He cares becauseI careabout this tub.
“That…uh, that doesn’t make sense.”
“All I’m saying is, try to be a little more gentler on the tub. Otherwise, you’re going to scrub the pink off. Consider it constructive feedback.” He reaches down into the tub where some water sits and flicks it up at me.
I gasp. “Did you just…attack me? With dirty water?”
He shrugs, smirking.
“Oh, it’s so on.”
I reach down, cupping a palm full of water and splash it toward him with full force. He freezes, and my eyes widen. Water drips from his jaw onto his thin, white tank that he’s still wearing. My hands cover my mouth as he looks down at the “damage” I caused, and then slowly lifts his head, eyes narrowing. “You just declared war.”
“I dare you.”
We both stare at each other for a beat before we reach down, splashing each other with whatever water is there, barely able tokeep our eyes open. We find small buckets in the corner, taking this water fight to the next level. Now, we’re slipping around on the floor, but neither of us gives up. His laugh vibrates off the walls. I aim for his face every time, but he shields it like we’re in battle. We’re both now completely drenched and breathless. It’s almost ridiculous.
But then, I slip. Just enough for my stomach to drop and my arms to flail. Tucker catches my waist instantly, like he’s been waiting for me to fall so he could prove he’d be there to hold me up. His grip is solid, but the heat of his touch brands my skin through the soaked cotton. My body is pressed against his. It’s hard enough to feel the rise and fall of his chest against mine, and soft enough that neither of us pulls away.
