Page 30 of Darlin'

"You got three seconds, princess!" Jesse rattles the unlocked handle. "Three..."

"That doesn't sound like Beau!" Momma notes. "Who is that?! Savannah!"

"...One! I'm coming in!" Jesse shouts with conviction, busting through the door. Keeping his gaze averted, hemarches to the toilet and unzips his jeans. My jaw drops as my mother yells into my ear. Jesse pauses, sensing my lingering and stunned gaze. "You gonna watch me, babe?"

"Oh my God!" I whip my head away and bring my knees up to my chest. My phone slips through my fingers, falling into the tub as Jesse relieves himself with pleasant humming. "Put it away! What are you doing?! I'm having a bath!" Eyes squeezed shut, I whimper, blindly fishing around the soapy suds for my phone. “Dang it! I dropped my phone! Jesse!"

"Want me to find it for you?" Jesse’s tone isfartoo cheeky as he flushes. "Oops...looks like your bubbles are popping, princess."

"I amnaked!" I find my drenched cellphone at the bottom of the tub and chuck it in his direction. "Get out, you freaking pervert! I could sue you!"

"Damn, girl." Jesse chuckles as the phone thuds against his hip. "You've got an arm on you."

"I willbreakyour arms if you don't get outright now!" I find the shower curtain and close it around the tub. Hesitantly, I open my eyes, peeking behind the gray plastic fabric. Jesse smirks, crossing his arms as he stands in the door frame. "Why are you still here?! Get out!"

"No.” He grins, wiggling his brows. "I'm kind of enjoying the view."

"Out!" I grab bottles of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash and whip 'em all at his chest. "Out! Out! Out!"

"Okay, okay." Jesse laughs, backing out of the doorway slowly as he catches each one of my tosses. "You know, princess, I hear the Rams are looking for a new QB; maybe you could—" Fuming, I chuck a bar of soap at hishead with all my might. He winces when it hits him right in the center of his forehead. "Fucking hell, woman. Okay, I'm leaving. Jesus..." He turns around, closing the door. "That one actually hurt."

Whimpering with heavy embarrassment, I sink into the tub. Oh gosh, did he see anything? I think the bubbles blocked any sneaky peeks...right? Oh no...what if he saw my boobs? Oh shoot, he already saw one. Now both?! I should sink deep into this tub and never come up for air again. Although...Idohave nice boobs, so I suppose it's not the end of the world, is it? No! No. Bad thought. Go away. That doesn't matter. What matters is that Momma?—

Momma!

Ah! I sit up aggressively, water splashing from the tub and onto the tiled floor. My phone! Shoot. Where is it? Dang it, is it broken? Okay, I'm going to pretend that the last five minutes didn't happen.Whoosh. Memory gone. Disappeared. Focus, Savannah. Phone.

Once I'm wrapped in a towelanda robe (not taking any chances), I sheepishly tiptoe into the kitchen and peek my head around the corner, confused by the giant clear mixing bowl on the counter. Is that my phone inside there? Is he gonna bake it?

"Um...Jesse?" I whisper, frowning as he rummages through the cabinets. "Why's my phone in a bowl?"

Jesse spins around, grinning as he shakes a bag of rice. "Gotta get the water out somehow." He dumps nearly the entire bag into the bowl and repositions the phone somewhere in the middle. "There. That should help..." He scratches his beard. "Maybe."

"I didn't know rice, uh—fixes phones," I mutter, swirling my finger through all the teeny tiny grains. "Would've been useful knowledge for when I dropped my phone in the pool last summer."

"Let me guess," Jesse smirks, leaning against the counter. "Daddy just bought you a new one?"

I shoot him an icy glare. "I paid for it myself, thank you very much."

"Really? That's hard to believe." He snorts, grabbing a bag of chips before heading to the living room.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask, following behind him.

"Means that I find it highly improbable that you've ever worked a day in your life," he says, manspreading as he sinks down in the armchair and turns on the TV. He cranes his head at me, a smug gleam in his eyes. "And volunteering at a sorority house doesn't count."

"I have been a rhythmic gymnastics instructor and pageant coach for young girls since I was sixteen," I state, combative. "That's a real job, Jesse."

"A pageant coach?" He blinks. "Like beauty pageants?"

"Yes," I murmur. "Like beauty pageants."

"I assume you've got some experience yourself, then?" he asks, amused. "Little Miss Savannah from Alabama?"

"I actuallyamMiss Alabama," I state with fleeting pride.

Instant regret.

"My oh my..." he draws out, fanning himself. "I didn't know I was in the presence of pageantroyalty. What an honor."

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