Page 127 of Not Fooling Anyone

“I don’t do baths,” he says skeptically, leaning heavily on the doorframe of the bathroom.

“Trust me. It’ll help. And I stopped at the store yesterday before you picked me up and got these.” I pull out the bag of Epsom salts I placed underneath the sink cabinet late last night and pour them into the tub. “The magnesium and sulfate will relax your muscles. I figured you’d need it, win or lose.”

“Okay, I’ll take a bath. If you join me.”

I glance at the small tub. “First of all, you alone are barely going to fit in there. And secondly, you’re in no shape for any kind of funny business tonight.”

He shrugs, wincing again as he does so. “Thought I’d at least give it a shot.”

“Come here.” I step over to him, carefully removing his shirt, trying to cause the least amount of upset to his side. There’s already a bruise forming over his ribcage, the area pinkish-red. By tomorrow, it’ll be a nice purple.

Across his abdomen are more bruises, tiny and barely noticeable if I wasn’t looking for them. “What are these?”

“I inject my insulin shots before meals during the day in my stomach. And in my thighs at night before bed.”

My brain makes a quick connection. “Those alarms on your phone…”

“Were to remind me to take them. I’m never going to do it around you, so you don’t have to worry.”

I nod, hoping someday I can work past my trigger to needles, knowing he might need my help. What if he’d been knocked unconscious today in the ring? Who would have given him his insulin?

His phone rings, and he pulls it out of his shorts pocket, the display readingMom.

“You take that,” I tell him. “I’ll finish drawing the bath.”

He wanders to his room to answer the call, keeping the door cracked open. I catch snippets of their conversation but I try not to eavesdrop, busying myself with making sure the salts are dissolved and the water is warm enough without being scalding. I also fill up a cup from the kitchen and find two ibuprofen for him to take. He has to be sore.

He returns after a minute, shutting the door behind him, and after taking the medicine, he finishes disrobing, easing his way into the bath. I find a towel underneath the cabinet and roll it up, placing it under his head as a cushion.

“This is actually kind of… nice,” he says, sinking further into the warm water. “We should light some candles next time. Put on some Yanni.”

I roll my eyes, settling down beside the tub on the bath mat. “Did you make up with your mom?”

He sighs. “Yeah. She wanted to see how I’m doing and said she was sorry everyone ganged up on me yesterday. And I apologized too for not telling her sooner.”

“I’m glad you were able to work things out.”

He nods, resting his arm on the side of the tub, reaching for my hand and intertwining our fingers together. “She said she liked you. Invited us both to dinner next week.” Wow, really? “And she won’t be inviting Jordan. I guess she wasn’t too impressed with Savannah.”

That news shouldn’t make me as happy as it does, but I can’t help the wide smile that crosses my face.

He grins back, closing his eyes and relaxing in the water. “Thank you for doing this. I wouldn’t have even thought to take a bath. I’d be in a fetal position on my bed without you.”

“I like that I can do something for you. You do so much for me normally.”

“I’m not keeping score.”

“I know.” I stroke my thumb over his palm. “And that’s one of the things I love about you.”

“Yeah?” A smug smile crosses his face. “What else do you love about me?”

I dip my fingertips in the bath, flicking water at him. “How humble you are.”

“And gorgeous and athletic and charming and smart, right?”

I laugh, the sound echoing off the bathroom walls. “Did you memorize that?”

“Obviously. I’ve been riding high on that compliment for weeks.”

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