“Here.” Smiling, I claim a seat on the tiled edge, push my sleeve up to my elbow again and cut off the water. Then I swipe the bubbles away from CJ’s neck. Our eyes lock—his so close to mine . . . “Um,” I quickly lean away. “Do you want to sit up?” I ask. “I can start with your back.”
CJ smiles slowly, keeping my gaze as he leans forward. He slides his grip along the edge of the tub and bends his left knee so his boot turns on its side.
I dip the loofah into the water beside his hip, then I squeeze more of the shower gel onto it and work it into a lather.
“I appreciate you helping me out,” he says. His voice sounding deeper, fuller now that it’s not competing with the noise from the running water.
“Of course. That's why I'm here.” I give him a smile, our eyes holding onto each other's, and I think maybe CJ wants to say something in response to that—his jaw ticks and his mouth hardens. He looks conflicted all of a sudden and ready to argue, but then he closes his eyes and with a heavy exhale, drops his head forward.
I take that as my cue, place my hand on his shoulder for balance, and begin working the loofah in small circles across his broad, muscled back.
Minutes pass with neither of us saying a word as I wash from shoulder to shoulder and down his spine. I cover the wide planes with suds and the sides of his ribs, leaning over to reach, then I move back up, dragging the loofah down his thick arm. I look at his profile as my hand moves idly over his bicep.
Eyes closed and lips parted, CJ pulls in a deep, relaxing breath and exhales it slowly.
I stare at his high cheekbone and the cut in his jawline. At his lips as they press together, twitch and curl up a second before he’s turning his head to peer at me.
“I think my elbow is clean, babe,” he shares, mouth twisting into a full smile.
I blink, looking down at my hand that’s moving in lazy circles over his elbow and the lather spilling onto the tiled edge.
Oh, crap.
“So, what does the CJ stand for anyway?” I ask, playing off my distraction as I scoop the bubbles into the tub. I quickly wash his wrist and drag the loofah underneath his arm to his pec where I lather there, meeting his eyes when he doesn’t answer. “What? Is it that bad?” I wrinkle my nose. “Is it a girl’s name? Were you named after an aunt or something, Charlotte Jean Tully?”
Hmm. That's actually a really cute name.
A laugh shakes his chest. “I might actually prefer that,” he says before leaning back to rest against the tub, pulling me with him in the process.
My hand stills against his sternum. “Tell me,” I request, looking into his eyes. “Is it a secret? I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”
The muscle in his jaw jumps. I watch his nostrils flare with the breath he inhales, and I wonder if the same words are whispering inside his head, the ones we both pleaded to each other and pressed against skin.
Tell me a secret.
“You first.”
I lift my eyes after he speaks. My brow furrows. Me first? “What do you mean?” I question.
“The only people who know the name I was born with are my family,” he shares. “I never went by it in school and got it legally changed to CJ when I was sixteen. Nobody calls me anything else anymore, except my mom, and she’s in Tennessee. Nobody here knows it. I wasn’t planning on anyone finding out either. I like going by CJ. I don’t want people calling me anything different. So if I’m going to share that with you, you gotta give me something.”
“Like what?” I ask.
“Why were you with him?”
CJ doesn’t miss a beat, throwing his question out as if he can’t wait to get it off his tongue and hear my explanation and the reasoning I did with myself.
I sit up tall and drop my arm to my knee, letting the loofah hang over the edge of the tub. “Because I loved him,” I reply, nothing but truth in my voice.
“Yeah, babe, I know, and I’m going to be straight with you. I don’t get that,” he says, and CJ either hears his own harsh honesty or finds the need to explain himself after watching my face tighten. “Look, Riley,” he begins, voice softer now. “I know I didn’t see you two together aside from that one time, but from what I’ve been picking up on, I’m thinking he wasn’t all that good to you.”
“He was good to me.”
“Yeah? He tell you that you can kick some serious fucking ass in the kitchen or show any interest in what you’re working towards for a career? `Cause I did, and darlin', you lit up for me like you’d never heard those words before.”
I feel my shoulders sag.
He has a point. And CJ's right too—Richard didn’t show much interest in my schooling or throw out compliments over every meal I made him. Not because he didn’t think those things, I don’t believe, it just wasn’t him.
“He bought me that laptop when I first got accepted into the nursing program,” I defend, feeling myself grow taller and my muscles stiffen. “He didn’t need to do that, but he did. He cared about me. And I cared about him. I was with Richard because I wanted to be with him. It wasn’t like he was forcing me or anything.”
“I didn’t say that,” CJ replies.
“Well, it kinda feels like that’s what you’re saying, and it’s not true. I loved him.”
“Riley—”
“I didn’t know there was different, okay?”
CJ blinks. His eyes soften and his lips press together. He looks regretful.
I sigh and look down at the bend in my knee. “I loved what I had and what he gave me. But it was all I knew,” I explain. “I didn’t know there was different, and when you don’t have different to compare to, you don’t question what you have. You don't know better until you're with better.”
My truth tastes bitter on my tongue, but it is the truth. I didn’t know men like CJ. And then I did, and still, I chose to stay with Richard.
Because we had history. Because CJ was mistake. We were never meant to happen.
Right?
I pinch my lips together, because I don’t know which word will come out of my mouth, yes or no, and I’m a little scared of both answers.
“Cannon.”
CJ’s voice lifts my head and our eyes meet.
“Huh?”
Cannon? What?
He clears his throat, then cocks his head with a surrendering smile. “Cannon Jake Tully. That’s what the CJ stands for,” he reveals. “And before you ask, yes, my mom gave my brother my middle name. She liked it too much to not use it as a first, so she says.”
I feel myself leaning closer as excitement quickens my breath. “Cannon. Really? Like . . . cannonball?” I ask.
“Yep.”
“Your birth name is Cannon Tully?”
“Now you see why I changed it.”
“What?” I sputter. “No way. I love it. That might be the coolest name I’ve ever heard.”
CJ lifts his brows and stares at me for a beat. “You love it,” he echoes back, looking and sounding unconvinced.
He doesn’t believe a word I’m saying.
I nod quickly, smiling at him. “It’s different,” I explain. “I don’t know anyone else with that name. And cannonballs are so fun. Your mom did good.” I hold up my free hand between us.
Cannon Jake Tully.
Seriously cool.
CJ’s eyes jump from my palm to my face. “You want to high five this?” he asks.
I shrug. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“We high five things that are awesome, babe. Things worth celebrating. Not my shitty name.”