Page 55 of One More Chapter

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Page 55 of One More Chapter

“You sure?”

“Absolutely. I didn’t even manage to get the bubble bath done right, let alone strip myself down yet.”

I watch his thick swallow precede the clearing of his throat and shiver. When he speaks, his words come out like a cement smoothie.

“What, uh… What’re you up to?”

I lift a brow and huff a laugh, letWhat does it look like I’m doing?speak through my expression, before tilting my head back and forth on my neck.

“I wasgoingto take a bubble bath. I’m getting tired of having to bend over the sink while Claire washes my hair, and figured I could attempt a moment of self-sufficient peace and quiet, but…”

I gesture with my robo-arm toward the bottom of the tub, where half the bag of bubble bath is making blob shapes on the tile.

“Ah. I see.”

“I just hate being soneedy. It’s one hand, but you might as well have chopped off the whole arm. I can’t dohalfthe things I normally do by myself, and it’s just so frustrating.”

I didnotmean for this to turn into a pity party, but here we are. Woe is me. I slipped on a spilled Stanley cup and can’t wash my own hair.

Ant puts both hands on his hips, then unbuttons the cuffs of his sleeves before rolling them up.

“Alright. Hop in.”

“Excuseyou?!” I gape, crossing my arms.

His expression turns incredulous, but he doesn’t stop what he’s doing.

“You want to take a bubble bath. I can get it started for you. Wash your hair. Whatever.”

He shrugs like it’s no big deal. My insides melt, because the last time we were together, we hadn’t evengottennaked, and he’d damn near ruined me.

“I… You?—”

“Am here to help you. Because you fractured your wrist. It’s okay to ask others for help when you need it, Pen. Asking for help isn’t weakness.”

My bones shudder. I shake my head, but he tilts his in this sly motion that I know is meant for persuasion and persuasion alone. Without lifting his gaze from mine, he turns the dial on the tub to hot.

His eyes pinch closed dramatically, and he damn near moans as he tests out the temperature.

“Oooo, it’s like a spa. Can yousmellthe pink Himalayan?Fuck,that’s the good stuff.”

“Stop making my bubble bath sound like a porno,” I chuckle, feigned annoyance not really convincing either of us.

He smiles, that easy, all-teeth, genuine look that can light up a room.

Or a beach at midnight.

“Then get in the tub. I’m not gonna ask you again.”

I sigh over-dramatically, full head tilt, full groan, and kick him out so I can change, only yelling to him when I’m fully submerged in bubbles, hair wet and slicked back, casted arm dangling out the side of the tub. The moment he walks back in, I know for certain that my pink skin has nothing to do with the blazing water temperatures.

Ant’s smile is gone, replaced by a stoic seriousness that can only be placed there by the clench of his jaw. I sink a little lower into the tub.

He clears his throat, and pushes up invisible sleeves that he already rolled up before kneeling next to the tub. When he reaches over my head for my shampoo on the tub’s edge, I steal a whiff of him—the same subdued cedar and jasmine that had enveloped me on every boat ride, every night in watching movies, and that one night I’d spent snuggled up close to him. Immediately, memories torrent down on me like torpedoes,firing off on all cylinders. The speed at which they assault me makes me dizzy. I pinch my eyes closed both to ground myself and to push them away and to maybe reel them back in for one more second.

“Tilt your head back,” is what steals me from the downward spiral, but I don’t think Ant’s voice, thick with restraint,is a better trade-off. I comply, if only because my bones seem to think we still speak the same language as him. But I keep my eyes closed, shutting off one of my senses so that I can’t cement this into my memory along with all of the other movies of Anthony Ellis that my brain likes to replay before I go to bed.

I forgot that losing one sense makes all of the others stronger. The moment my eyes flicker shut, I senseeverythingelse.




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