Chapter 98: Bathroom Disaster
Leo
I stared at the marble wall of the bathroom, pointedly looking away as Miller stepped into the tub.
My pulse was thrumming in my ears—a rhythmic drumming that intensified when I heard the heavy slosh of water.
"Okay, Doc, I’m in. You can stop pretending the wall is interesting now," Miller called out, his voice echoing sharply against the tiles.
I exhaled, trying to steady my hands against the cool stone before turning around.
Miller was already submerged up to his chest, his arms draped over the edge of the deep tub. Even with the water obscuring the rest of him, his broad shoulders and the damp hair clinging to his neck made the bathroom feel far too small.
He was simply that large; a physical presence that defied the boundaries I tried to maintain.
"Leo?" Miller said, winking at me. He reached up, touching the back of his head with a wince. "Actually... my head is really pounding. It hurts to move my arms up that high to wash it. Do you think you could... you know, help me wash my hair?"
I turned toward him, my brow furrowing into a deep frown. "No. That is not a medical necessity. You have ten functional fingers and sufficient range of motion in your rotator cuffs. Washing your own hair is a basic motor skill that you should be able to execute even with a mild concussion," I said through gritted teeth. "And besides, it’s better for your cognitive recovery to perform daily tasks for yourself."
Miller immediately slumped in the water, his lower lip sticking out in a pout that was ridiculously out of place on a six-foot-two professional athlete. "But Leo," he whined, splashing his hands lightly like a toddler. "My arms feel heavy. What if I get soap in my eyes because my coordination is off?"
I simply shrugged my shoulders, unimpressed.
"Then I’ll start thrashing around," he continued, physically demonstrating every erratic movement. "I’ll slip under the water and drown in my own bathtub. Is that what you want? To explain to the Coach why I’m a headline in the morning?"
I let out a groan, rubbing the bridge of my nose. "You are being incredibly dramatic. The probability of drowning in thirty centimeters of water due to soap in the eyes is statistically negligible."
"It’s not negligible to me!" he insisted, looking up at me with wide, pleading eyes. "Please, Doc? Just this once? I am an invalid. I am a broken man."
I let out a long, frustrated sigh and palmed my forehead. "You are impossible!" I almost shouted, but instead, I took a deep breath and forced a tight smile onto my face. "Fine. But you must stay perfectly still. I am only doing this because the risk of you thrashing around and hitting your head is slightly higher than the effort it takes me to do it for you."
Miller clapped his hands underwater with a muffled thud, looking far too pleased with himself.
As I knelt by the tub and began to work the shampoo into his scalp, his voice dropped to a soft murmur.
"You have a really light touch, Leo," he whispered. "It’s nice having someone actually... take care of the person underneath the jersey."
"I am simply performing a task to prevent infection and maintain your hygiene," I muttered, even though, internally, I actually enjoyed having my fingers in his hair.
"You keep saying that," he murmured, opening one eye. "But you are still here with me. Which makes me wonder why you don’t like athletes? Do you have any bad memories with them?"
"No," I said, my voice flat as I rolled my eyes. "The thing is, I prefer stability. Athletes are high-risk. I spend my days fixing them; I don’t want to spend my nights worrying about them. Athletes are an unstable demographic, just like you, Miller. Not to mention, you are a walking whore. I have no interest in being another notch on a tally that the tabloids update weekly."
"Ouch," Miller said, dramatically placing a hand over his heart. "How can you say that? There is no way I am an unstable demographic." He laughed, catching my wrist in a firm grip. "I think you are just scared that if you let your guard down, you’ll actually like me. The thing is, I want you, Leo. Maybe if you try it with someone like me, you might actually enjoy it. Half of those stories online are PR stunts or people looking for a payday. Most nights, I am right here alone. And some of those nights, I spend them thinking about you."
The bluntness of his statement hit me like a physical force, and my heart skipped a beat.
I stared at him, my mouth slightly open, my brain temporarily stalling as I searched for a rebuttal that wasn’t a complete lie.
"Uhm..." I managed to say after a moment of silence, staring down at his hand gripping my wrist. "I should get back. I... let go, Miller. The floor is wet and you are being..."
"I am being honest," he countered, his grip tightening just enough to be felt but not enough to hurt. He pulled back playfully, trying to draw me closer to the water, but his wet hand slipped from my wrist at the exact moment I tried to stand up.
My foot caught on the edge of the bath mat, and I let out a sharp, undignified sound as my feet went out from under me. Miller instinctively lunged upward to catch me, but with his own balance compromised by the water, he couldn’t stay upright.
I fell forward, slamming directly into Miller’s wet, bare chest. His arms wrapped around my waist to stop us both from cracking our heads on the porcelain, and for a second, I was pinned against him. Chest to chest, the only thing that separated our skin was the thin, soaked fabric of my shirt.
"See?" Miller whispered, his breath fanning my neck. "You are always falling for me."
"Leo? Miller? Coach said to check—"
The bathroom door was pushed open, and I froze immediately.
My head snapped toward the entrance while I was still leaning over Miller’s naked body in the tub. Rhys and Kayden stood in the doorway, staring down at us.
Kayden let out a loud, horrified gasp, his eyes bulging.
This was the second time he had seen me in such a compromising situation, and it was getting really hard to defend.
Rhys, on the other hand, just stood there, his arms crossed and one eyebrow inching toward his hairline as he looked from my soaking wet shirt to Miller’s bare arms wrapped firmly around me.
"Uh..." Kayden stammered, his face turning a deep, violent shade of red. "I... uhm... think we walked into the wrong room."
"I uhm—I fell!" I shouted, finally finding my footing and scrambling out of the tub so fast I nearly fell a second time.
I stood there, dripping wet and breathing hard, pointing a trembling finger at the door. "See, before you came in, Miller pulled me into his... uhm, his arms and I—" I let out a groan, adjusted my glasses, and then practically screamed. "You know what? Both of you should get out of this bathroom immediately!"
Rhys let out a laugh and grabbed Kayden’s hand as they turned to leave. "You know what? Both of you should finish what you started. My fault for going straight to the bathroom the instant I arrived."
"Out!" I screamed, but behind me, Miller was laughing out loud. I spun around, my face red from anger. "Shut up!"
But he still went on laughing.