AN: This is a little more the higher end of the Teen rating. Read at your own risk
2. Who constantly tries to get the other to shower with them?
"I need a shower."
"So go take a shower."
He could feel her eyes boring into his back but he refused to lift his eyes from the grocery list he was writing.
"Arnold."
"I already took a shower."
He felt her arms slide around his check, her body pressed against his back. Her hair was down and ticking his cheek.
"Aw, come oooon…" Her pleading voice was next to his ear. He would not be moved. There was a schedule, dammit.
"No. We're hanging out with Gerald and Phoebe in an hour."
He could almost feel her pouting.
"If you do it right, we won't need an hour."
He paused in his writing and turned his head to look at her, their mouths centimeters from each other.
"If I do it right, we're gonna need more than an hour."
She pouted, her lower lip sticking out. With a dejected sigh, she kissed his cheek and moved away. He went back to making the list, mentally congratulating himself for winning today's battle of wills.
"Fine, I'll be in the shower."
Something hit the back of his head and fell across his shoulder. He pulled it from his shoulder and looked at it.
Helga's towel. The one he knew she was wearing when she came in here.
His shoulders fell, defeated. She knew exactly how to get under his defenses.
Pushing the list aside, he picked up his cell phone and dialed a number.
"Hey Gerald, it's me. Can we push the meet up back an hour? Yeah, something came up."