His voice was a low, rough whisper. He looked at her, his hands gripping the copper edges of the tub under the water.
Marissa kept smiling. She lifted her leg and gracefully slid into the warm water of the tub. The water splashed softly over the edges. She moved through the water until she was sitting right in front of him. Their wet knees brushed against each other beneath the surface.
She leaned her upper body forward. She closed her eyes, tilting her head slightly, and aimed her lips directly at his. She tried to kiss him.
But just like that afternoon, Derek reacted with sudden, rigid panic. He quickly turned his face to the side. Her lips completely missed his mouth and brushed awkwardly against his rough, wet cheek instead.
He avoided the kiss. He pulled his upper body backward, pressing his broad shoulders tightly against the hard back of the tub to put physical distance between them.
