Page 55 of I Can't Help It

Me: Yes, sir. And we’ll officially start reviewing activities and events today.

Also, I kissed Ava, and we slept in the same bed last night. That won’t get me fired…right?

Ha.

There aren’t any rules about office relationships, Ava was right about that, but it still wouldn’t look the best for us.

When Colton doesn’t send another reply, I toss my phone onto the bed.

I guess I could change out of my pajamas since she’s in the bathroom, but things are going to be a lot more awkward if she catches me half-naked.

I can wait to change. I need to do something, though, because I can’t just stand here while—

Is she showering? I hear water running.

Crap.

Time to think of every possible, horrible thing again.

Long lines. Discontinued movie series. Spam calls. Losing the TV remote. Random computer restarts. Potholes. Knock-knock jokes. Finding a tissue mess in the dryer.

“Luke! Luke, come here!”

I swear that I black out for a second or two.

Did she—did she really just call me into the bathroom?

While. She. Is. In. The. Shower?

“Luke!”

Oh no, what if she slipped and fell again? Like that story she told me about yesterday?

I can’t go in there…

It would be totally inappropriate.

“LUKE! GET YOUR BUTT IN HERE RIGHT NOW!”

That does it.

Against my better judgment, I yank open the bathroom door and keep my face buried in the crook of my arm.

“Ava! I’m not looking! I swear I can’t see anything, but did you fall? Are you hurt? Should I get a towel or—”

“There’s a spider!” she hisses loudly. “After I put my contacts in, I went to grab my body lotion from one of the shower shelves, and then I saw it! This sucker is HUGE, Luke! I turned on the shower to—deal with him—but the evil genius climbed up the wall and hasn’t moved!”

“Okay,” I tell her once my mind has processed everything she just said. “So, you weren’t showering then? And you’re…dressed?”

“Yes!” she whines, her voice becoming more frustrated. “Stop covering your eyes and please come take care of this!”

I let my arm fall from my face, then I do a quick assessment of the scene in front of me. Ava is next to the shower, barefoot and still wearing her pajamas, while looking scared to death.

My stomach twists at the panic in her eyes.

I don’t consider myself to be a violent person, but this spider chose the wrong shower to hang out in.

“Don’t worry,” I say, trying to keep my voice calm as I give her arm a light squeeze, “I’m going to take care of it.”

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