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Eventually, we managed to peel away from each other so he could go shower. I unzipped my bag and reached for the travel-sized pack of makeup wipes I’d picked up during our walk, unable to keep the smile off my face.
Okay, somaybeJamie had been a teeny tiny bit right. Maybe emotions had been running high at the beginning, there were a few misunderstandings, and Adrien wasn’tas badas I’d originally thought. Maybe there was a bit of chemistry between us, and maybe it wasn’t all just physical.
Not that I’d consider pursuing anything long-term or serious with him. Fooling around like this was one thing, getting emotions involved and our lives entangled was another. It would be too complicated with him, and not just because we’d been lying to his parents about...Wait, why is this…
My previous train of thought derailed when I realized I’d been scrubbing the same spot on my forearm with a makeup wipe for what must have been a full minute now, but the color still hadn’t fully come off.
I rubbed harder, checking every few strokes to see if my skin was back to its normal olive. It wasn’t.
Oh, shit.
My palm slammed against my mouth, muffling the shocked giggle bubbling up my chest. If the blue couldn’t be erased with a makeup wipe, chances were high that a bar of soap wasn’t going to do the trick, either. Adrien was going to lose his fucking mind.
Sure enough, a few minutes later the glass shower door slammed open, panicked wet footsteps pounded against stone tiles, and Adrien stormed back into the bedroom with a grey towel wrapped haphazardly around his waist. His eyes were wide with genuine terror. “Fuck my life.Look!”
I looked. His arms, neck, and face were all still covered in sloppily applied cobalt. You could tell where he’d tried to scrub the paint off his left arm, because the top, most vivid layer had been subdued. But a noticeable tint remained.
I lost it. My knees caved, and I hit the floor laughing so hard my body rolled.
“Sanchez!”
I knew I’d said this before, but this was it.Thiswas how I was going to die. I was one hundred percent sure of it this time.
I was fighting for air, my stomach muscles spasming in protest against the uncontrollable laughter. I was in genuine pain, but I couldn’t stop. He looked so fuckinggoofy.
“Help!” I wailed theatrically, clutching to my sides. “Make it stooop.”
“I can’t believe they put this shit on kids. Every single one of the parents from today is going to send me hate mail.”
I couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought to double-check to make sure it didn’t stain. I was crying into the carpet, dying.
“This is all your fault,” he said.
I’d gladly take credit for this. I hadn’t earned it, but I’d take it.
It took almost ten minutes for me to calm down enough to sit up and look at him without my lungs seizing. He was seated on the edge of the bed, facing me. His elbows were on his knees, his hands clasped loosely in front of him, and his head hung in defeat. He’d fucked up. Heknewhe’d fucked up. But even so, his cheeks were tight like he was trying to hold back his smile.
And... all right, fine. Yes. I really,reallyliked that he had a sense of humor. When I sat up and we looked at each other, my stomach did a weak little flip when he grinned at me, and I found myself returning his smile easily.
“Are you done?” he asked.
“For a lifetime,” I decided. I was never going to laugh again. But on the bright side, “I’m gonna wake up with abs. Guaranteed they’ll be even nicer than yours.”
His smile twitched. “Sanchez.”
“Cloutier.”
“I’m fucked.”
“It’s not a big deal.”
“I’ve got two video conference calls I’ve got to be on tomorrow morning.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be on vacation?”
“They’re important.”
I sighed. “We’ll fix it.”
