show Will the tap that burst, please?”
“Why?”
She looks at me like I’m an idiot. “Because he’s the plumber.”
“He’s the plumber?”
Will jiggles a metal toolbox dangling from his hand, his smile full of white dazzling teeth, which look contradictory against his bushy beard.
I throw my hands in the air. “Of course you are.” Turning on my heel, I walk away and bite out, “Follow me,” not waiting for him to do so.
“You look good wet,” he says, voice low but humorous as he falls into step beside me.
“Oh, shut up.”
He chuckles. “So tell me what happened.”
“I’m not entirely sure. One minute, I’m standing there, and the next, I’m soaking wet.”
I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth.
“You wouldn’t be the first woman to say that to me.”
I roll my eyes, my smile sarcastically sweet as I open the classroom door. Will follows me inside, and the students grow silent, which is eerie considering they’re normally bustling with sound.
I look at their faces, all of them staring at Will, wide-eyed, their mouths parted but quiet.
“Whoa!” Jet croons. “You’re the biggest man in the world.”
I go to correct him, when Will nods and says, “Yes, I am.”
The rest of the class croon too, and I have to bite back my laugh.
“You’re bigger than my house.”
He nods again, nose scrunched. “I’m bigger than my house.”
This time, I do laugh.
“Hey! That’s my boxing teacher.”
My eyes dart to Dylan, who has shot out of his seat and is waving at Will like a lunatic.
“Dylan, my man.” Will winks at him.
“I brought my boxing gloves for Show and Tell today.”
“Nice!” They bump fists as we walk by.
“Class!” Oliver snaps. “Pay attention.”
“This way.” I motion to the back of the room, a little shocked that Will actually “teaches” boxing.
Will fires Oliver a weird look and murmurs, “What crawled up Colonel Mustard’s arse?”
I burst out laughing then quickly cover my mouth, remembering I’m a professional educator and that his comment is inappropriate.
“We’re interrupting his lesson. It’s hard enough getting the kids’ full attention without a new face in the room.”
“Maybe the kids should learn some basic plumbing.”
“They’re not here to learn basic plumbing.”
His toolbox lands on the ground by his feet with a thud, and I’m surprised by the sound; it didn’t look that heavy when he was carrying it.
“So”—he inspects the broken tap—“run by me what happened, step by step.”
“Well, the faucet has been leaking for a few weeks now—”
“Weeks?”
“Yeah.”
He huffs. “How bad?”
“Not bad, but it was worse this morning.”
“Gushing or dripping?”
My cheeks heat at his words, and I’m almost unable to answer. “Uh… dripping. A lot. Almost a steady stream.”
His eyes lower to my damp chest, so I cross my arms again.
“Then what happened?” he prompts, clearing his throat.
“Oliver. I mean, Mr Bunt—”
“Mr who?”
I bite my lip to stop from smiling.
I fail.
“Bunt… with a B.”
“Right.” Will’s eyes bulge before he blinks. “Mr B-unt did what?”
“He turned on the tap, and it broke off in his hand, and then water flew out like a fire hydrant.”
Will looks over at Oliver then back at me. “Did he get changed already?”
“No. He avoided the spray. I didn’t.”
Will scoffs.
“What?”
“Nothing.” He bends down, and his shorts pull tight against his thighs, which are like tree trunks—stout, solid, defined.
My nipples tingle as they peak under my blouse, and I shiver then press my arms to my chest, my thumbnail finding its way between my chattering teeth. I’m desperate to change clothes, but that involves a trip home, which I can’t do right now.
“Find anything yet?” I ask.
“Did Mr B-unt turn off the shutoff valve?”
“No, Mr Tims did. He also turned off the mains for the building.”
“Mr Tims is a smart man.”
“I know.” I smile.
“Should I be worried?”
“About what?”
“About you and Mr Tims?”
Drawing in a deep breath, I huff it out, letting him know I’ve no patience for his silly game.
“I’m kidding, Elizabeth. You need to lighten up.”
“As you can see, I’ve had a”—I whisper—“shit of a morning. I’m far from feeling light.”
“Fair enough,” he says, scrubbing his hands together. “I’ll need to turn the mains back on for pressure testing.”
“Yes, of course. Whatever you need to do.”
“Anything else happen?”
“No.”
He stands up, unfurling like a giraffe, and I’m almost transfixed.
“Oh, yes, there was also a loud growling noise before the avalanche of water.”
“Growling noise?”
I nod.
“What kind of growling noise?” He leans closer, all serious-like. “What did it sound like?”
“Um… it was like…” I do my best growling grumble noise. “Kinda like that.”
Will throws his head back, his rumble of laughter nearly