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“You’ll never know if you don’t try,” I laughed.
“Hmm.” He lowered an inch, and then another one, until he was kneeling in the water, hands still gripping the sides like his life depended on it.
“Look at you,” I praised, reaching up to rub his big shoulders as I shifted my legs so that I had one on either side of him. “The things you do for boobs, Gerard Gibson.”
“The things I do for you, more like,” he corrected.
“Okay, so I’m going to put my hands here,” I explaining wrapping my arms around his waist to rest on his hard stomach. “And when you’re ready, I want you to rest your back against my chest, okay?”
“You won’t put water on my face?”
“I won’t put water on your face,” I vowed, feeling him slowly lower himself into a sitting position in the bath.
“I can keep holding onto the sides?”
“For as long as you need to,” I agreed, thrilled when I watched him slowly lower himself until his back was touching my chest. “I’m right here.”
“Believe me, I know,” he bit out, full-body shuddering. “It’s the only reason I’m doing this.”
Keeping my arms wrapped around his waist, I shifted slightly so that my back was resting against the tub, and his big body was nestled between my thighs.
“It’s on me,” he breathed, looking panicked as the bubby water lapped against our bodies. “I don’t want it on my face.”
“I’ve got your face right here,” I assured him, using my cheek to nuzzle his. “I won’t let you go under.”
“I’m going to hold you to that, Claire-Bear,” Gerard groaned, still gripping the tub.
_______________
“Can you do something for me?” I asked a little while later, still keeping a firm hold of Gerard’s waist, knowing that he needed to feel my touch to keep him relaxed in this moment. He needed to feel like he was being held up, even though he couldn’t sink deeper. It was a psychological reaction to the trauma he’d endured as a child.
“Hmm?”
“Relax your arms.”
“Claire.”
“Think of the boobs, Gerard.”
“Jesus Christ, what am I doing,” he muttered as he reluctantly relinquished his hold on the cast-iron bathtub and placed his hands on his stomach.
“I’m so proud of you,” I whispered in his ear, using one of my hands to cover his. “You’re amazing, do you know that?”
The feel of his hand in mine felt so epically right that I had to remind myself that this wasn’t a romantic thing. I was trying to help my friend. That was it. We were friends. Right this moment, we were in our friendship era and nothing more. Stem the raging hormones, Claire.
“Why do you do it?”
“Hmm?” I mused, still nuzzling his cheek with mine. “Do what?”
Gerard turning his hand over, palm up, and entwined his fingers with mine. “Waste your time on me?”
“For two reasons,” I explained, feeling my heart beat harder. “First, because I happen to believe that no time is ever wasted when I’m with you.” My cheek grazed his temple as I spoke. “And second, you’re my favorite person in the whole world. There’s no one I would rather spend my time with.”
“Really?”
“Really, but don’t tell the girls.”
“Never.”
