He noticed and frowned, realizing he’d lost me again.
“I’ll be fine,” I grumbled.“I’ll just brush it off with a towel.”
“Your hair looks clean, at least,” he offered with a shrug.
Rolling my eyes, I fought back another giggle. Laughing felt good, but I couldn’t give in.“Don’t disarm me, sir,” I warned, finger waggling.
He laughed despite my attempt to sound serious.
“I’m serious!” I huffed, turning away and stomping towards the shed.
The sound of his laughter followed me up the hill.
I marched through the door, eyeing the bathwater and snatching up my dirty clothes from the floor. I was mad at myself now, too. I never should have let myself have that moment with him.
I hoisted one leg onto the stool, brushing off the dirt with the dirty clothes, then repeated the action with the other leg. Last, I brushed off my sandy ass—just as he walked in.
I yanked the edge of the robe back down.“Some privacy?” I bit out.
He slowed, brow raised.
“Go away!” I barked.
He turned his back, arms in the air as though to placate me. Though I could no longer see his face, I knew he had that stupid grin tattooed on his lips.
I grumbled.“The water needs changing, and the tub sanitized, pool boy. I’m not bathing in rat soup.”
He chuckled and shook his head.“I’ll work on making sure Larry isn’t in here next time,” he told the far wall.
I snorted.
He chanced a look over his shoulder before turning to face me once the coast was clear.
I gestured around the room.“In this mess? There are a hundred different places Larry could hide in here, along with the rats.” I paused, weighing my next words. This was the perfect time to begin my plan of escape.“Look,” I softened my approach as best I could.“I appreciate the bath.”
“And the bath time entertainment?” he teased.
I glowered before continuing.“What if I organize this space too? Like I did with the greenhouse? Consider it a‘thank you’.” I wanted to puke saying those words before I added,“This way I’ll get the space I want, and this whole swimming incident won’t happen again. Deal?”
He nodded slowly, assessing the space. Hands on his hips, a visible look of concession reached his face.“Okay… I guess that would be a fair trade. I’ll take it.”
“Good,” I agreed, nodding once.“But I’m doing this more for me than for you. Don’t get mixed up in any sort of meaning. I still hate you.”
He said nothing, but there was a smirk.
“No more of this rat business, and that includes you—Pack Rat,” I concluded.
He gave me a contemptuous glare.“Just don’t throw anything out, okay? Junk is useful more often than not.”
I let out a mirthless laugh and looked to the ceiling for guidance.“Well, it’s not like I can just haul the trash can out to the curb now, can I?”
He shook his head in exasperation and walked out of the shed. Maybe I’d finally run him off.
“It’s okay to let go of things!” I yelled after him.
I heard a far-off chuff in reply.
Content with how that ended, I finished unpacking the soap from the plastic bag and set it up on the bench in a neat row, hopefully elevated from any snooping critters. Once satisfied, I tossed the dirty clothes in the bag and made my way back to the cabin.
