12

Solana

“Jesus fucking Christ,” I screamed as I sat up, instinctively trying to cover myself up, which wasn't necessary anyway. The excessive bubbles floating all around us created a barrier between us. “How did you even...how dare you sneak up on me like that? What are you, fifteen?”

“I didn't sneak up on you,” he rolled his eyes, his expression bored. “I've been knocking on that door for ten minutes, but I got no response.”

He was still in his suit pants from yesterday evening, his sky-blue shirt rolled up, exposing the minimal golden hairs on his strong, muscled forearms. The first few buttons were popped open, and there was a thin-lined scar just above his left collarbone. It took me back six years ago. I remembered how I'd picked up on it, concentrating on it when I couldn't bear to look into his eyes anymore that cursed day.

I felt my cheeks heat up as I glanced away. “I must have slipped away for a few minutes.”

“Which is a very dangerous thing to do in a bathtub.”

“Tell me some