her so, yelling over her god-awful music, so she can hear me. About halfway through working, she comes in with an ice-cold glass of water, and for that, I’m thankful.
Her piping is shit. At least the guy wasn’t lying about that. It’ll take some time and patience, but I should be able to have this fixed for her, so she can avoid a hefty fee.
“So, where did you learn to do this?”
I roll my eyes, using the wrench to tighten a bolt around the pipe. “Don’t remember.”
“Where do you work? I just realized I never asked you.”
I blow out a sigh. “I fix cars.”
“How did you—”
“You plan on asking me questions all day, or are you gonna let me get to work?”
She raises her hands in defense and slowly slips out of the bathroom, leaving me to work in peace. Of course, that doesn’t last long. She’s back, not long after, asking more questions. And talking some more.
I’m so caught up in trying to listen to her but also ignore her, at the same time, that I accidentally tighten the bolt too hard. It snaps off, and water starts spraying everywhere. Olivia screams as the blast of ice-cold water drenches us both. We both reach forward, trying to stop the spray and keep it from causing too much damage to the floor and the rest of the bathroom.
I shout over the stream, trying to use my hands to cover my eyes, and block most of it from my face.
“I told you to shut off the fucking water!”
With her hair plastered to her head and face resembling a soaked dog, she yells back through narrowed slits, “I thought I did!”
“Hurry up and stand here and try to cover this with a towel!” I yell, while trying to maneuver her, so she can stop the water flow, until I can get out there and shut off the water manually. She loses her footing on the way, though, because one second, she’s standing upright, and the next, she’s slipping and sliding like a fucking cartoon character. Her arms flail, her face morphing into a comical expression of fear, and she lets out a scream, reaching out to me for support.
I lose my balance, my booted foot slipping in a puddle of water on the floor, and we both topple to the ground. I try to take the brunt of the fall and pull her on top of me, so I don’t crush her. My back slams against the tile, and for one moment, we pause our hysterics and stare at each other. A solid beat passes between us, frissons of electricity coursing through the dense air. Then suddenly, she’s giggling. Both of us are soaked to shit, and she’s laughing. Practically rolling with hysterics.
I try not to focus on the fact that I have her hot, wet, delectable body on top of mine. I want to slide my hands down her body and feel each one of her curves. Instead, I do the opposite. Summoning that façade I’ve been holding on to like a lifeline, I shoot her a glare, and I watch with rapt attention, as the smile slowly drops from her face and realization sets in.
“Fucking Christ!” I growl, pushing off the wet floor, all while trying to maintain my balance. The entire way out of her house to shut off the water, I have to adjust my swollen cock.
Fucking Christ is right. I’m so fucked.
Who gets a hard-on during a time like this?
For fuck’s sake.
Once I’m able to shut off the water outside, I step back in and take in the hell that is now her bathroom. It looks horrible. Like someone let the bathtub overflow with water. I blow out a defeated sigh.
“I’ll start cleaning this up. Just bring me some towels, so we can soak most of it.”
She’s quiet, too quiet. I realize, much too late, when I fix my gaze on her that I might’ve been too harsh when I snapped at her. Her cheeks are coated red, likely with the embarrassment of me being a dick to her, and her eyes look a little sad. Despite the fact that I’m the one who put it there, I find that I hate that look on Olivia. And though I shouldn’t, I know I’d do anything I can to make her feel better.
Letting my guard down, just enough to make her feel better, I drop the act. A smile curls the corners of my lips and surprise lights