Page 126 of Terms Of Un-Endearment
A vent above my head blasts cold air that sends a shiver through my entire body.
I peek around the corner and watch Piper pad barefoot—in no hurry at all—down the opposite hall. I could dash for the stairs, but I’d rather not risk her seeing me in my current state.
A lifetime later she yells from the kitchen, just out of view, “I’ve got one. Do you need me to bring it to you?”
“NO! Just toss as it close as possible, then close your eyes.”
She won’t video this, will she?
“Okay,” she sings and seconds later, I hear the towel land softly somewhere out of my sight.
“Close your eyes!” I order before stepping into the open and yanking the towel off the floor, keeping my gaze on Piper the entire time.
Her eyes are squeezed tightly shut, but I don't trust her.
Especially since, with a stack of large beach towels she could have chosen, she’s brought me a flimsy towel not much bigger than a hand towel. Something is better than nothing, but her flicker of a grin makes me wonder if she’s purposely trying to make me uncomfortable.
If so, I may as well return the favor.
“Thanks,” I mutter while I set down the detergent and wrap the towel around my waist. It barely hits my thighs, and I have to clench it closed at my hip because there’s not enough of it to tuck. The opening shows enough of my right leg to rival some of the dresses I’ve seen at Hollywood awards events.
"You're welcome," Piper says with a smile. "Can I open my eyes now?"
"Go ahead."
Maybe she expected me to be on the way back to my room or maybe she didn’t realize quite how small the towel she brought me is, but when Piper opens her already-large eyes, her pupils grow even larger behind her glasses.
She blinks, and her eyes drop to my hand holding the towel before slowly traveling back to my face.
"Towels should be done soon." She swallows hard, shifting her weight. "I'll fold them and take them to the bathroom when they're done."
"Great." I suppress a grin. Seeing Piper so uncomfortable almost makes up for the humiliation. “I’ll shower down here.”
I walk slowly past her on my way to the gym, not breaking eye contact the whole time. And if she's blushing because she’s seeing more of me than she bargained for when she suddenly decided to wash every towel in sight, well, that's on her, isn't it?
In the gym, I grab a beach towel among the many located in plain sight, hanging right next to the surfboards, and eagerly head into the bathroom across the hall. I’m ready for that hot shower. I turn on the water and wait for it to warm up.
But it doesn’t. I twist the handle to full hot and wait, but nothing changes—besides my body temp dropping even more. The air con vent is blasting air so icy, I think a cold shower might be warmer.
As soon as I step inside, the freezing water hits me in the chest, stealing my breath. I’ve taken plenty of cold showers in my life while surfing in remote areas. I tough it out when I need to. But this is brutal. I wash and shampoo in ten seconds flat, barely rinse my hair, and jump back out. My body shakes uncontrollably as I dry off. Still shivering, I dart to the gym for a second towel and wrap that around my shoulders.
Piper is sitting at the kitchen table with her sketchpad and pencils when I shiver past her. “You okay?” she asks when she looks up.
“Something’s wrong with the water. It wouldn’t get hot.” My teeth chatter around each word.
"Weird. My shower was hot," she says a bit too innocently.
I look back at her, my suspicion piqued. “Really? Weird that something would break between your shower and mine. I can’t remember ever not having hot water in the house. The faucet looked fine to me, not broken.”
“Faucet?” Piper raises her thick eyebrows so high they’re visible above the rim of her glasses. “Do you understand where hot water comes from, Archie?”
I consider the question for longer than I should. I haven’t ever really thought about why the water is always hot here. I’m not about to say magic, but as far as I know, it could be.
“Yeah, must be the shower handles,” I stammer finally. “I’ll ask Sybil to get someone in to fix it.”
Piper’s brow creases. “You’re going to make Sybil inBrisbane, Australia,find a plumber for you instead of just asking Google?”
Despite the air con still blowing full blast, heat creeps down my neck. A plumber—right. That’s who you call about water problems. I know that. I just never had to put those pieces together before.
