Page 14 of Snapshot

If Charlie has a grandmother, she’s Ursula, and she’s torturing unsuspecting mermaids as we speak. Well, I can only assume. He never introduced me to his family. After I dumped him for cheating on me, he spent days begging me to forgive him, but my mother taught me better than to believe his bullshit. His apologies weren’t genuine. He was just frustrated that he couldn’t have his way.

Once he knew it was really over, he grew mean. One time, in a weed-laced, drunken stupor, he told me I was always his placeholder girl anyway. The girl you keep around until you find the girl you actually want to keep.

That hurt.

I mean, it was probably the first honest thing he ever told me.

But it hurt.

“So the shower is a little complicated,” Dex says, leading me to the corner of his bathroom. “There are two nozzles. One for each showerhead. But the water gets hot fast, so please be careful. Don’t crank the handles all the way.”

“Did you seriously just ‘mansplain’ turning on a shower to me?”

“I was just—” He stops, holding up his hands, a smile breaking free from his pretend-offended expression. “Wow.You’re just a little shit starter, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I’m trouble. Feel free to kick me out.”

His laugh tapers off to a breathy chuckle. “No, Trouble, that’s okay. I think I’ll keep you. I’ll leave you to shower in peace. But just know if you scald yourself, the ‘I told you so’ I give you will be loud and relentless.”

“I thought you were going to stay and watch.”

He licks his lips and tries to control his grin. “It was just playful flirting, Lennox. I don’t think I could watch you and not…” He clears his throat. “Anyway, I’ll be right outside in the bedroom. Maybe I’ll go sign up for aNetflixaccount.” He winks, and I burst out laughing. A laugh that brews deep from my belly and overflows.

Oh, I’m definitely in trouble. He’s so sexy. So flirty. Funny. Protective. Charming. Sexy again. I just want to rub up against his body like a cat and make him my favorite scratching post.

Once he disappears from view, I peel off my stained bralette and toss it in the sink to soak with my lace blouse. I yank down my shorts, which are probably unsalvageable.Fucking Charlie.And it’s not like I can replace them. I struck gold at the thrift store. These are my favorite summer shorts.

I kick them aside, walk into Dex’s enormous shower, and turn both handles. I yelp when the water goes from cool to burning within seconds. I’d dart to the other side, but there are two rain showerheads overhead, spanning the entire shower. I have to endure the boiling downpour as I lunge for the handles and turn them to half-mast.

I cradle my shoulders, now an angry red, until the water feels safely warm. Then, I grab the shampoo and deposit a large dollop into my hand. I take a little sniff. Definitely something fancier than I use. I usually go with Garnier Fructis, whatever scent is on clearance at Walmart. Dex uses something from a salon, I’m sure of it. This smells like lavender and tea tree oil. In fact, Dex’s shower, much like his house, is a little over the top. It has features similar to my parents’ old house.

My mom poured over the design of their new build. Dad happily indulged in every single upgrade, especially in the bathroom. All the countertops were granite, top-tier finishings for the handles and faucets, and marbled tile laid on top of heated floors. And the tub. Mom loves baths, which is why Dad insisted she go with a jetted tub so large it looked like they shoved a full-size hot tub into the corner of their master bathroom.

Their new house doesn’t have a single bathtub. Just a shower, but Mom never complains or dwells on what they had…then lost.

Knock, knock.

I spin to see Dex standing just outside of the shower with his hand over his eyes. He points to the left with his free hand. “Towel and a shirt you can borrow. I’m going to grab your dirty clothes.” I know he’s not looking at me naked because he thinks he’s pointing to the sink, where he left a folded towel and T-shirt on top. He’s actually gesturing to the door that I’m assuming the toilet is behind.

“Thanks,” I say, poking my head out of the shower so he can hear me. “I’ll just be another minute.”

I wait until he disappears from the bathroom before I tiptoe to the sink. I’m dripping water everywhere, so after I pat my body down and sop up the excess from my hair, I clean his bathroom floor using the towel to mop up the trail I left.

I have no underwear, so I pray this T-shirt is long enough. It looks new. It’s folded very flat, the way shirts are only once when they are fresh out of the factory. Once I shake it out, I’m pleasantly surprised to see a logo I recognize.Discover Dives?Excited to ask Dex how he has a T-shirt from the dive shop, I pull the shirt on overhead. It’s a literal dress on me.

After scurrying out of the bathroom and through the closet, I find Dex lounging on his bed. He has one hand tucked behindhis head as he scrolls through his phone. I let myself admire him for about ten seconds before asking, “Hey, how do you know Discover Dives?” I point to the logo of a hammerhead shark on the chest of my T-shirt.

His eyes lift and brighten, matching my enthusiasm. “You know it? I own it. I’ll be running classes soon. That shirt was with some leftover inventory I found in boxes last week. It’s smaller than my other shirts. I thought it’d fit you better.”

“You’re kidding me. You’re the new owner? That’s…wow.Small world.” Looking up at his vaulted ceiling and the elegant crown molding that covers every inch of his enormous bedroom, a realization washes over me. “I would’ve never guessed you owned a dive shop.”

“Why?” Dex sits up, setting one foot on the ground so he can face me.

“I didn’t get the impression from Jacob that dive instructors made a ton of money.” I rotate my wrist, gesturing around his room. “And you have a really nice place.”

“They don’t. My old job did,” he mumbles. I wait, but he seems unwilling to elaborate.

“Oh.”

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