GUNTER POV
The tub was too damn small.
Not the poetic kind of small either—the kind that makes you question all your life choices the moment you get near it. I’d built this whole movie in my head: steam, heat, skin against porcelain, her laughter echoing off the tiles while I washed the war off her inch by inch.
Instead, the moment I actually looked down at the thing…
My stomach dropped.
“Don’t say it,” I muttered.
Tessa was already howling. That uncontrollable, reckless kind of laughter that bent her in half and made her braid fall forward like a black whip. Her hand pressed to her stomach as she cackled, eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Oh, come on,” she gasped between snorts. “You’re seriously trying to fit in that thing?”
“I’m serious about a lot of things,” I growled, glaring d
