He took another step toward the couple, but Chelle shot him a look that stopped him. Well, that and the fact that she’d put her hand on his chest, which sent a lightning bolt of lust straight to his dick.

She pulled back her hand, flexing her fingers as if she’d felt it, too. “Give folks a chance to solve their own problems.”

“But—”

She tilted her chin down and shook her head. “You don’t have to fix everything for everyone, Nash.”

Chelle could be right.

Maybe.

Sure, there was a strong chance that she was more correct than incorrect.

Possibly.

Normally, he’d already be up in the couple’s business, offering his guidance and keeping them from having to experience the painful consequences of failure, but instead he took in a deep breath and let that anxious knot at the idea of someone needing help unwind in his stomach with the exhale. By the time he was done, the couple was holding hands again and taking the pickup location cards for both types of bookcases.

Chelle could have given him a told-you-so look, but instead she took a step back and held up her phone as he got back in the shower. “Close the curtain and peek out like I just interrupted you.”

Yeah, those were not the kind of ideas he needed in his head when he was in public. His dick was half hard, and he was thanking the universe for the shower curtain hanging between them.

And because the universe loved to fuck with him, she picked that moment to sweep the curtain back. Luckily for the little bit of pride he still had at that moment, instead of looking down at his unprompted but becoming a little too common boner around her, she grabbed the removable showerhead and handed it to him.

“Now sing into the showerhead,” she said as she angled her phone for the perfect shot.

And he did it. Like, he went full front man in the middle of a big arena show—he was all exaggerated facial expressions and way too into it body language, complete with the whole head thrown back showered mic above his face thing. Why? Because it made Chelle giggle, and hearing that gave him the same rush as closing a massive Beckett Cosmetics distribution deal or winning a stupid bet with his cousins.

Though, really, there was more to it. Those things always left him craving whatever came next. This? He just wanted to bask in the light sound of her enjoyment of him making an ass of himself.

“Why am I doing this again?” he asked, because it wasn’t like he could say the truth out loud.

She tucked her phone into her back pocket. “Because there are Swedish meatballs for you at the end of it, and then beer when we get back to Harbor City.”