it.”
“You sound so uppity right now,” I said, only half teasing.
He rolled his eyes at me. “I’ll drive you wherever you need to go. Just stay off the damn bus.”
“Okay,” I conceded. I wasn’t sure why I was doing anything to accommodate his weird issue with public transit, but I got the distinct impression that it would be a bigger headache if I didn’t. “I’m going to shower.”
“Alright. I’ll be ready whenever you want to go.”
With a nod, I stood to put my cup in the sink, but Logan reached out to take it from me.
“You don’t have to do things for me. You make me feel like a guest,” I explained. “I live here, we’re roommates; I can clean my own messes.”
“My mother raised me to be a gentleman. I’m already closer to the sink, and I need to clean mine anyway. I’ll take care of it.”
I eyed him, wanting to remark that fucking women that one barely knows and has no intention of being with is hardly gentlemanly behavior. Instead, I swallowed my pride and my catty remark. He did not have to let me live here, he wasn’t charging me rent when he rightfully could, and now he was saving me the trouble of cleaning up my cup. What had I done in return? I’d spent all night judging him for having sex with another consenting adult in his own home, for making choices he had every right to make, and made him feel he had to apologize and warn me off because I was somehow superior to him. I was being self-righteous and it made me sick.
Without thinking it through, without considering if it would be awkward, I moved around the island and wrapped my arms around him. He seemed hesitant to hug me back, and it was not until his hands rested on the exposed skin of my back that I realized why. In the course of our conversation, it had slipped my mind that I was still in my rather skimpy workout clothes. For an instant, I thought about recoiling, but I realized how strangely comfortable I was with his hands on my skin. Even dressed the way that I was, I was at ease with being close to him.
"I'm sorry," I said, pulling back from him. It struck me how deeply I felt the absence of his arms around me. "Thank you for being so nice to me."
He seemed like he was still surprised by what was happening, but he quickly shifted to a grin. "I'm a pain in the ass to live with. I know that, so I'm trying to be... less so."
Retreating to my room to shower, I felt as though he was still watching me. When I peeked through the corner of my eye, I was sure I saw him adjust himself through his jeans. My face heated, but a small grin spread across my face at the sight.
Eli lived about thirty minutes away in North Queen Anne. As expected, he was lounging in a t-shirt and basketball shorts when we arrived. Alex, done up as always, immediately swept Charlotte into a tour of their third-floor walk-up. The apartment was a nice space. From the moment I had first seen it, I thought it was incredibly welcoming. The walls housed several framed copies of old concert posters. The couches were a plush light grey, which contrasted with the dark brown entertainment center and coffee table. Candles and flowers were scattered throughout the space. It was a well executed balance of masculine and feminine, and it was warm, just as Alex wanted it.
Alex and I had never had any in-depth conversations about the past, but over the last few years, I came to grasp some pieces of her story. She’d had a rough upbringing, one she didn’t feel the need to talk about often. Despite the issues in her past, she was naturally caring and nurturing to everyone around her. The type of person that was fiercely committed to the people she cares about. She was admittedly extremely attractive, which I gathered had not helped her situation. Still, despite any struggle she had, she was one of the most personable people I had ever known. It was, besides her obvious skill in the area, very important for her as a beautician.
"You guys relax. I'm
“You sound so uppity right now,” I said, only half teasing.
He rolled his eyes at me. “I’ll drive you wherever you need to go. Just stay off the damn bus.”
“Okay,” I conceded. I wasn’t sure why I was doing anything to accommodate his weird issue with public transit, but I got the distinct impression that it would be a bigger headache if I didn’t. “I’m going to shower.”
“Alright. I’ll be ready whenever you want to go.”
With a nod, I stood to put my cup in the sink, but Logan reached out to take it from me.
“You don’t have to do things for me. You make me feel like a guest,” I explained. “I live here, we’re roommates; I can clean my own messes.”
“My mother raised me to be a gentleman. I’m already closer to the sink, and I need to clean mine anyway. I’ll take care of it.”
I eyed him, wanting to remark that fucking women that one barely knows and has no intention of being with is hardly gentlemanly behavior. Instead, I swallowed my pride and my catty remark. He did not have to let me live here, he wasn’t charging me rent when he rightfully could, and now he was saving me the trouble of cleaning up my cup. What had I done in return? I’d spent all night judging him for having sex with another consenting adult in his own home, for making choices he had every right to make, and made him feel he had to apologize and warn me off because I was somehow superior to him. I was being self-righteous and it made me sick.
Without thinking it through, without considering if it would be awkward, I moved around the island and wrapped my arms around him. He seemed hesitant to hug me back, and it was not until his hands rested on the exposed skin of my back that I realized why. In the course of our conversation, it had slipped my mind that I was still in my rather skimpy workout clothes. For an instant, I thought about recoiling, but I realized how strangely comfortable I was with his hands on my skin. Even dressed the way that I was, I was at ease with being close to him.
"I'm sorry," I said, pulling back from him. It struck me how deeply I felt the absence of his arms around me. "Thank you for being so nice to me."
He seemed like he was still surprised by what was happening, but he quickly shifted to a grin. "I'm a pain in the ass to live with. I know that, so I'm trying to be... less so."
Retreating to my room to shower, I felt as though he was still watching me. When I peeked through the corner of my eye, I was sure I saw him adjust himself through his jeans. My face heated, but a small grin spread across my face at the sight.
Eli lived about thirty minutes away in North Queen Anne. As expected, he was lounging in a t-shirt and basketball shorts when we arrived. Alex, done up as always, immediately swept Charlotte into a tour of their third-floor walk-up. The apartment was a nice space. From the moment I had first seen it, I thought it was incredibly welcoming. The walls housed several framed copies of old concert posters. The couches were a plush light grey, which contrasted with the dark brown entertainment center and coffee table. Candles and flowers were scattered throughout the space. It was a well executed balance of masculine and feminine, and it was warm, just as Alex wanted it.
Alex and I had never had any in-depth conversations about the past, but over the last few years, I came to grasp some pieces of her story. She’d had a rough upbringing, one she didn’t feel the need to talk about often. Despite the issues in her past, she was naturally caring and nurturing to everyone around her. The type of person that was fiercely committed to the people she cares about. She was admittedly extremely attractive, which I gathered had not helped her situation. Still, despite any struggle she had, she was one of the most personable people I had ever known. It was, besides her obvious skill in the area, very important for her as a beautician.
"You guys relax. I'm
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