𝗔𝗰𝗾𝘂𝗮𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲𝘀

Nine.

"Go with your gut."

I fill myself up with remorse even thinking about it.

"Your drunk, Beck," he chortled at the comment, "guilt kinda comes with the territory. Besides, I told you already, I'm here. Forever and always."

I released a soft, yet innocent smile.

Christopher gently came forth shrouding his arms around me for an immense hug. Our bodies encased in each other as his warm embrace temporarily calmed my overwhelming anxiety and questionable nerves. We gave each other a short peck on the lips before breaking apart.

"Now c'mon," he said turning me around, "let's take a rinse, you smell straight-up like spring break in Puerto Vallarta."

"Do I?" I lifted my palm upward, sniffing my breath as Christopher guided my body to the washroom. It did wreak. "Shit, must've been the shots of Glen Milseans."

"Did you say shots of Glen Milseans," we stopped just at the room threshold, "Beck, that's like an eighty-dollar glass of scotch."

Fuck me.

I promptly diffused the situation the only way I knew how: by slowly peeling off my clothes as I spoke.

"So, I kinda infiltrated this bachelorette party... " I corrected while removing my shirt and bra. "Things got a bit out of hand, one girl was completely out cold on the sidewalk."

The truth wasn't that far off, so I continued talking while removing the bottom half of my attire, "then we got into it with a few of the bouncers from the club." And finally, socks, "Don't get me started with our cab driver, he was Evel Knievel reincarnated."

He remarked a saying in Spanish, enough for me to know it was most indeed an impressively creative combination of curse words; followed by a sincere hug, "I see what you're doing."

"I have no idea what you are talking about," I jokingly replied.

Leaning toward the tub, I swept the single faucet knob to the middle position letting the water run until it was a perfect hot-but-not-scorching temperature. Gaining my balance upward, I see Christopher par-naked, "Christopher Chico, are you leveling the playing field?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about," He smiled while he quickly took off his boxers and stepped into the tub.

I immediately followed right behind him, sliding the vinyl shower curtain closed.

"I can't have you slipping and bumping that drunk head of yours," he noted while activating the overhead shower.

I watched as the water drenched his thick black hair and flowed down alongside his toned body, "a few shots don't make me piss drunk, Chris."

"Regardless," he retreated out of the way, giving me a sly 'look what you're missing' smile. "It's non-sexual this time, I promise." His over pronunciation and enlarged cock said otherwise.

"Oh really?" I attested

"You know it has a mind of its own," Christopher innocently replied. "Besides, I just want to continue this moment we're having. It's... nice."

I waited until he was done talking before going beneath the water flow. I let the water droplets overfill my face while grounding myself down to present reality, "You're right, this is nice."

I stepped closer to Christopher, the water cascading over my body, its warmth soothing my skin. The steam filled the bathroom, creating a sense of intimacy between us. I reached out and ran my fingers through his wet hair, the strands slipping between my fingertips. Christopher leaned into my touch, his eyes closing momentarily as he savored the sensation.

"You're something else," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of the shower.

A small smile played on my lips as I continued to caress his hair. "It takes two," I teased, my tone laced with affection.

He chuckled softly, the sound reverberating in the small bathroom. "I love you," he said, his eyes meeting mine. There was a vulnerability in his gaze, a rare glimpse into his true feelings.

We had shared countless intimate moments, both physical and emotional, but this one felt different somehow. Was it my guiltful meeting with Marco? Perhaps the adrenaline of the evening?

Gently, I leaned in, pressing my lips against his in a soft, lingering kiss. The water enveloped us, creating a cocoon of privacy as we lost ourselves in each other. The world outside ceased to exist, and all that mattered was the here and now.

In that shower, with the water as our witness, we found solace in each other's arms. It was a reminder that amidst the chaos and uncertainty of life, we had each other as a constant, a refuge from the storms that raged outside.

"I love you too," I finally whispered as we stayed there, lost in our own private world, cherishing the simple act of being together.

The water continued to fall, its steady rhythm echoing the beat of our hearts, as we shared a moment of respite from the outside world, a moment of love and connection that would forever be etched in our memories.

...

...

Emerging from the shower, a refreshing serenity lingered between us. Yet, as I dried off, thoughts of our intimate moments clashed with an unexpected revelation. I watched as Christopher meticulously dried his hair. Observing his graceful movements, I decided to break the silence and bring up a different topic.

"I hate to ruin our moment but," I softly interjected, as we fixed eyes. His attention shifted towards me, curious about the topic I was about to introduce. "How did Robert take the news?" I asked.

Christopher handed me the towel, his expression carrying a mix of concern and weariness. "Stress is overwhelming him, Beck," he replied, his voice tinged with empathy. "Your suspension, the new mayor's up his ass, and now this Montanari case."

I froze mid-grab, the mention of the Montanari name catching me off guard.

Marco Montanari. Angelo Montanari.

My mind raced with questions, and I looked at Christopher, seeking answers. "What Montanari case?"

"The container full of bodies I mentioned earlier..." I gave him a look of disturbance as we pivoted positions, "The dumpster dive, remember? You said I smelled like unwiped ass."

Suddenly, a sense of urgency filled the room, mingling with the remnants of our intimate moment. The weight of the outside world began seeping back in, threatening to disrupt our oasis of tranquility.

I stood there, towel in hand, as the realization sank in.

"You know what?" He waited until I exited the bathroom. "We're doing a live press conference about the Montanaris in the morning by the port. You should come. We can ride along for old time's sake. Whatcha say?"

*****
*****