Sage came out, and I sent Jew in. Bucky came out, and I called on Sancho. Soon, all the guys were finished, and it was my turn. I rolled my eyes at Tyler—he insisted again on standing by the door. It wasn’t the first time I’d taken a shower at headquarters, and the guys would never peek, but they loved to tease him.

I stepped in front of the long line of sinks and mirrors, snuggled in my robe—the only thing I had packed that reminded me of the luxuries of home. I scrubbed my hair with the towel, feeling a little more human. Sometimes we would have access to a tractor-trailer full of shower stalls, but when we were too deep in the mountains for the trucks to reach, it was living dirty or bathing in a pond, river, or waterfall. At fire camp, I was a different person, ignoring the dirt and sweat on my body and the grease in my hair. Once, Tyler had taken me down to a waterfall to rinse off, but the water was freezing. For me, at least, being dirty for a few more days was preferable to the sting of just-melted snow that didn’t warm, even at the height of summer.

Tyler knocked on the doorjamb.

“I’m decent,” I said.

He leaned against the wooden frame, crossing his arms. “You are grossly underestimating yourself.”

“What?” I said, rubbing moisturizer on my face. Spending so much time in the dry mountain air, my skin felt like sandpaper. It didn’t help that I’d forgotten my sunscreen one day, and my nose was beginning to peel.

“Nothing,” he said. “I meant what I said earlier. If you need a place, one way or another, we can make it work.”

“We can’t live together, Tyler. We’ve already got this weird friends-with-benefits thing going on…”

“Not lately,” Tyler said, almost pouting.

“And it would make things really complicated. Look at you. You’re standing outside the bathroom door so the guys don’t walk by.”

“I’m protecting your virtue,” he teased.

“You’re jealous. They like messing with you when it comes to me. Everyone knows—”

“Everyone knows what?” he asked.

I cleared my throat. “You know.”

“No, I don’t know. Tell me.”

“That something is going on between us.” He smiled, his dimple sinking deep into his cheek. I narrowed my eyes. “Stop smiling.”

“No,” he said.

I wet my toothbrush, squeezed out a dot of paste on the bristles, and then wet it again before scrubbing my teeth.

“I do that,” Tyler said.

“Do what?” I said, my mouth full of suds.

“Wet my toothbrush twice.”

I rolled my eyes. “We must be soul mates.”

“Glad you agree.”

I bent over and spit in the sink, and then Tyler grabbed me, sealing his lips onto mine. When I pushed him away, he had a circle of toothpaste around his mouth.