The only reason she willingly goes to her dad's house is the bathtub.
Her room is pretty sweet too - her dad's solution to her has always been to just throw money at problems when necessary and ignore her when not. She spent most of it on decorative items: oddities floating in jars, candles, lamps, weird plants, dead butterflies... but she's also thrown in some antique furniture and blackout shades on all the windows. It's dark and cramped and absolutely perfect, but it pales in comparison to the bathtub.
Perhaps it's a side effect of being perpetually frozen, but being surrounded by hot water is among her favorite things. If she got to pick how she was going to die, being boiled would win, no question.
The bathroom is massive, it's actually insane. She dragged in fake trees and a rocking horse for a film project and still had plenty of room when she decided to leave them in there. The tub itself is claw-foot, white porcelain, and more than large enough so that she can comfortably relax, up to her neck in steamy water. There's a set of shelves right next to the tub. She'll bring in a candle from her room, stick it there, light it, turn the rest of the lights off, and stay there for hours.
She and Beck hang out in his RV ninety-nine percent of time. It has the advantage of being completely and totally private - unlike her mom's tiny apartment where you can hear literally everything (they found that one out the hard way) and they never go to her dad's because doing so involves her dad. But, for his birthday, she decides to make an exception.
She instructs him to park a block away so there aren't any weird questions about the strange car in the driveway. They sneak in the back door, up the stairs, and into her room.
Beck's seen her collections in the background of video chats, but never in person. She doesn't keep any of the good stuff at her mom's because she would not put it past her mom to sell them. As she tries to pick the perfect candle, he wanders around and pokes at things.
"So, what'd you get me? Because I hope it's more than the can of lemonade, but I hope it's not... what sort-of animal is this?"
"A mouse, and it's going to be brilliant, you idiot," she decides on a cinnamon scented one, Beck likes cinnamon. "Come on, leave your stuff here, and be quiet."
He shrugs, gives the mouse a shake, and follows her out into the hallway. She leads him down a hallway and into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.
"A bathroom?"
"It's a little more than that."
"A very large bathroom? You could fit my entire RV in here."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she lights the candle, turns off the lights, and turns on the tub, "Now, strip."
"...Your parents are downstairs."
"My dad and my stepmother are downstairs," she corrects, as she pulls her shirt off, "They won't hear anything."
"Your brother's in the next room."
"He's over-heard us before."
"And I am concerned about the amount of therapy he's going to need already."
Done with her own clothes, she wanders over and starts unbuttoning his jeans, "Come on, don't worry about him." She whispers in his ear, rubbing up against him, "We'll just have to be quiet."
He swallows and pulls her into a kiss. She tangles her fingers in his hair, slowly opening her mouth, deepening the kiss. They continue for a few minutes until she feels the steam from the tub and remembers why they're here.
Slowly pulling back, she smiles and him, walks over, and gets into the tub. She turns around and looks at him, sitting up in the water, "Come on, hurry up with your clothes."
"...In the tub."
"Yes..."
He considers this for a second, takes another look at her in the tub, and complies, climbing into the tub beside her.
...
Afterwards, she curls up against him and concludes that there are things she likes more than being in the tub by herself. The candle flickers out and they stay there in the dark, occasionally kissing, but mostly just being.
She's not sure how long they've been there when there's a knock at the door.
"Jade? Jade? Please let me in, Jade. You've been in there for hours, Jade. Please let me in."
"Damn," Beck whispers, "What are we going to do?"
"Don't worry about it," she mutters back.
"Oh, sorry, no," she yells.
"But the witches," her brother replies, "Did they get you?"
"...The witches?" Beck hisses.
"Yeah, but I fought 'em off, go get coffee and leave it in my room. Two mugs. I need extra to get my energy back."
"Okay," they hear his footsteps running down the hall.
"You told your brother your bathroom is inhabited by witches?"
"Yeah," she shrugs, "Better witches than Canadians."
"More than one?"
"Oh, you know, I'm just incredibly popular with my Northern neighbors," she rolls over so she's on top of him, "We should probably go back to my room, get our witch-fighting coffee."
"Or we could..." he finds her face in the dark and kisses her, "Give those witches a show."
He can feel her smile, "Yes, we can..."
(a/n: I was born without a smut-writing gene, it's truly tragic. I thought I would spare you all the pain of reading my awkward attempts. And speaking of tragic things, Beck not being mentioned in the "Things I Love" video? Devastation right here.)