However Do You Want Me... || Chenford / The Rookie

Part 8

Despite all of the drama, which Lucy is sure will make the final edit of the show, they actually have a decent finish in 3rd place. The first thing that pays off for them is Lucy's musical mnemonic. The second is her forethought to keep their puzzle pieces carefully organized and away from the other players' pieces, which allows them to steer clear of the intense arguing that breaks out across teams as they begin to discover missing or incorrect pieces in the last mile. But she knows Tim is deeply disappointed that they don't win. And she is too.

Even though he was a massive asshole for most of the day, he's not wrong that this was a competition they should have been able to dominate. No inappropriate touching or sexual innuendo to derail them — just teamwork, physical fitness, and a memory game. She's upset that she wasn't able to perform at a level that met his expectations and secured their victory.

When they arrive back at the house, there's a short filming break as the crew changes shifts and the cast splits off in various directions to shower, change, eat, and pass out from exhaustion.

After a quick shower, Lucy finds Tim alone in the hot tub, a grimace on his face as he rubs his right shoulder.

He takes her in as she approaches, eyes trailing from her bare feet up her shapely legs until he reaches the hem of her cut-off shorts. She's topped the shorts with an LAPD T-shirt and is fresh out of the shower, hair still wet and hanging loose around her shoulders. Tim feels a fleeting wishfulness that he could see her like this always — relaxed and casual and comfortable vs. perfectly put together at work or after-hours social outings.

She takes a seat on the edge of the hot tub opposite Tim and dips her feet into the water, exhaling a sigh as the heat soothes her sore muscles.

"How's your shoulder?" she asks.

He frowns, bringing his left hand up to rub it again, "Yeah. I think I tweaked it pretty good."

She nods distractedly, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth and glancing down before meeting his gaze again.

"I'm sorry if I let you down today."

Tim sighs, "You didn't, Lucy. I mean it. You never have and never could let me down, okay?"

And there's something about the way he says it, and in the way he's looking at her like she could truly do no wrong in his eyes, that sends a flutter through her stomach. She nods and smiles softly, "Still, though, I was distracted, and you weren't wrong — it has been a while since I've been for a run. You were right about needing to train..."

Tim shakes his head, "That doesn't excuse how I acted. I'm sorry I was such a jerk; I just...I don't know. I guess I just really wanted to win, and yeah, I wasn't a very good partner today."

She nods, "No. You weren't. And that's just it, Tim. You're my partner. I'm not your boot anymore. You can't give me orders and yell at me like that. You might still outrank me in the real world, but you're not my boss here. We're equals."

"Equals," Tim repeats slowly, as if the shape of the word in his mouth is foreign, before finally sighing, "You're right. I can't make any promises  — old habits die hard and all that — but I'll try to do better."

Their eyes meet and Lucy offers him a tentative smile, "Me too... You want some help with that shoulder?"

Tim looks at her questioningly, and she motions for him to cross the hot tub to sit in front of her, and so he does, relaxing back between her legs as she tenderly examines his shoulder.

"Tell me if it hurts, okay?" she instructs, as she starts with his right forearm, slowly but surely kneading and massaging her way up around the muscles of his upper arm and then finally focusing in on the tension concentrated in his upper back, neck, and shoulder.

He trails his own hand up and down over her leg as she works, returning the favor as he deftly works over the tightness in her calves with his fingers, her words from last night resurfacing in his mind as suddenly the idea of getting comfortable with more physical contact between them doesn't seem nearly so intimidating, nearly so outlandish.

His hair tickles the inside of her thighs, as he lets his head drop back with a groan, "You are really good at that."

Lucy freezes, suddenly envisioning an entirely different scenario of him between her legs, pushing her knees further apart, his stubble scratching against her inner thighs as he presses kisses into the sensitive skin, fingers reaching to push aside the loose denim of her shorts and lace of her panties, the pink of his tongue visible through his parted lips as he leans in to taste her. Lucy chokes out a cough, realizing Tim has twisted to look back at her, "You okay?"

"I  — uh  — yeah. I'm fine. You're, um, really good at that, too. The massage, I mean," Lucy can feel the blood rushing to her face as she lifts her feet from the hot tub, "I-I think it's just getting a little too hot for me over here."

***

Tim follows Lucy over to where she collapses on one of the poolside lounge chairs and takes a seat on the next chair over, watching with mild amusement as she bemoans her exhaustion.

"So are we good, then?" he asks, looking down at her as she rubs her hands over her face, "About earlier, at the challenge, I mean?"

She nods slowly, "I think so... well, I guess there is one more thing. Maybe for the next one... I just think I do better with positive reinforcement, you know?"

Tim's lips curve upward into a slight smirk as he nods, "Yeah... that figures. I probably should have known that."

Lucy looks up at him in confusion, "What do you mean?"

"It's just ... I know how much you enjoy your praise, Lucy. It's no big deal."

She frowns, eyebrows knitting together. "Why are you making that face? You're making it sound weird. Who doesn't like being praised? It's perfectly normal!" she adds defensively.

Tim shakes his head, his lips curving further upward. "Yeah. You're right. It's nothing."

"You're making it sound like it's something." She narrows her eyes, "Spit it out, Bradford."

He shrugs, "I don't know. I've just noticed that... maybe you like it a little more than most. Maybe you even have a bit of a praise... kink." He finishes quickly, the final word disappearing under his breath.

Lucy sits upright in her chair and turns to face him, feeling her cheeks heating yet again as she gapes at him. "A praise what?!" she asks shrilly.

Tim shrugs, and it's clear that he's enjoying her discomfort, enjoying getting to be the one to make her squirm this time around. "A praise kink. It's fine, Lucy. I'm sure it's pretty common."

Her eyes narrow, "So let me get this straight, you've decided I have a praise kink just because I like compliments? Like to be recognized for my hard work?"

She hesitates before continuing, wondering briefly if what she says next will push things too far, cross a line that seems to be continuously shifting in real time between them. But the smug expression on his stupid beautiful face seals the deal — he is the one that brought it up, is he not?

She leans forward until they are almost nose to nose and pokes him in the chest, "I just want to know one thing, Bradford. Just how much time have you spent thinking about what does or does not get me off?"

Tim chokes on his own spit, coughing and attempting to clear his throat, watching in disbelief as Lucy gets to her feet and walks back into the mansion.