Chapter 36
PIPER
I’m tired down to my bones when I come back from an opening-to-closing shift at the bakery.
I was on my feet all day long. My hips and knees and ankles are screaming. Nash’s place is really nice, but this is one of those days I really wish he had a bathtub instead of just a standalone walk-in shower.
Four days ago—the last time we were in this house together, before he left for a string of three away games in a row—he even overheard me mention it while I was on the phone with Hallie.
I just told her that I wished I had a bath to soak in, and he gave me an odd look.
I hope he didn’t take it the wrong way or anything.
I like to think I’m not a particularly demanding person to live with. Well, except for that time I marched him at hockey-stick-point into the bedroom and forced him to sleep in his own bed.
Considering the sequence of events that followed it, that was probably a mistake. Though things have mostly gotten back to normal, except for a new tension that often thickens the air when we’re close to each other in the same room. We basically have a tacit agreement not to talk about … any of it.
Not about sharing the bed, not about waking up tangled together, not about me walking in on him rubbing himself off in the shower, and not about the salacious words that dripped from his mouth after we made eye contact.
I haven’t even told my sister about it, which feels like a mild betrayal.
She’d no doubt call it a colossal betrayal. But I just don’t know how to process what happened. I’d rather try not to think about it and move past it, hoping that it doesn’t change anything.
I don’t know why I hear a tiny, sarcastic laugh in the back of my head at that thought.
A moan of relief escapes me when I kick off my shoes. Even if I can’t soak in a bath, zoning out under the high-pressure stream of Nash’s shower will be a nice consolation prize.
When I approach the bathroom door, I knock, even though I know Nash is literally in another state. Can’t be too safe. After two seconds, when of course there’s no answer, I push it open.
But when my eyes take in what’s in front of me, I’m almost as shocked as I was when I walked in on Nash stroking himself.
This literally isn’t the bathroom I saw just this morning when I used it before going to work.
Is it possible that I worked so hard today that I’m hallucinating?
I screw my eyes shut for a long count of five seconds and open them. I still see the same thing.
I step out of the bathroom, close the door, and then open it again. Doesn’t change what’s in front of me.
The bathroom, somehow, has fundamentally transformed since I left the house early this morning when the sun was breaking over the Texas horizon.
I don’t know how it happened—but we have a bathtub now.
The walk-in shower still exists, but there’s a new sink—a smaller but more stylish one—repositioned to make room for a spacious bathtub on the other side of the bathroom.
The spotless white porcelain curves gleam under the warm bathroom lights. I approach it slowly, tentatively, like I’m still not entirely convinced it’s not some malevolent spirit taking the form of a bathtub to haunt the house.
Hey, it’s not like any other explanations make sense.
There’s clearly only one person who could possibly be responsible for this, and he’s not even in this state. He hasn’t been for days.
When I get close enough to the tub to look inside it, I spot a letter. I pick it up to find heavy cursive handwriting in black ink, the style clearly masculine from how jagged and hurried the shapes are, but surprisingly elegant.
I got the suspicion that you might appreciate having a tub to soak in after a long day at work. Happy two-month anniversary. Nash.
My stomach flips over itself. Nash somehow orchestrated a one-day bathtub installation for our two-month anniversary.
Nash knew this was our two-month anniversary? I haven’t even been keeping track.
I grab my phone and send a text.
ME
Nash, what did you do?
NASH
Just now? I snuck a moon pie that Hayden brought to the hotel as a pre-game snack. Don’t tell Coach
ME
HOW did you get a bathtub installed while I was working?
NASH
It was easier than I expected
I roll my eyes while I smile.
ME
This is way too much for a “two-month anniversary present”
ME
I wasn’t actually complaining when you overheard me telling my sister I wished we had a tub, you know
ME
I don’t even want to think about how much it cost to get the job done this fast
NASH
My wife wants a bathtub, she gets a bathtub
I don’t know why seeing those words on my phone makes my heart vibrate. I kind of wish I could stop it, because it’s a dangerous feeling. What’s also dangerous is the knowledge that even if I could stop it, maybe I wouldn’t.
Minutes later, I’m soaking in a glorious hot bathtub, along with an amazing bath bomb that Nash also bought me a bunch of.
And when I let my gaze stray to the shower on the other side of the bathroom, I don’t fight against remembering the last time I saw Nash standing in it.