Page 45 of Close Quarters

“Sure, sure,” he said, glancing over. Then he pushed away from the fence and leaned in close. “And don’t think I missed how you got defensive on my behalf.”

“I didn’t?—”

“Or that’s why you were in such a pissy mood that day. I know you don’t want me to call it sweet, but I appreciate it. And hell, look where it got us. I’m not going to complain.”

I was usually pretty good at having something to say when something weird or stupid came out of his mouth, but this time, I could only stare at him wide-eyed. His low chuckle sent a tingle through me, and while there was a definite note of arousal in it that spoke promises of what I would do to him later, there was also something else.

Something warmer, softer, and I remembered when I was twelve and zoning out during math. I had let my eyes fall upon Davis Willis. Puberty had crept up on him that year, and he was already the tallest and strongest guy in our class. It seemed puberty had also started its creep into my system because I remember how he’d glanced at me and grinned at some joke he’d made, and that same fluttering feeling had passed through me then.

Except now I was a full-grown adult, not some preteen on the verge of adolescence and experiencing his first crush. I wasn’t twelve and tormented over the realization that I was nothing like the other guys in my class, though I would fight like hell to pretend to be for a long time. I had gone through enough growing up to know better than to trust those feelings, even if they had swept me away at a young age like most emotions did.

And I definitely wasn’t getting those feelings for Elliot, no way in hell.

I didn’t jerk awake as much as feel myself torn back to reality. Chest heaving, I looked around the dark room to realize I was already sitting up, my dream melting away. Being awake was stripping the details of the dream from me. Still, it left behind a nasty residue made up of the emotions that had filled my mental wandering through memories that were better left forgotten and the horrors it could still conjure up.

No, not dreams, nightmares.

I was covered in sweat, which meant not only taking a shower as quietly as possible but changing the sheets without too much fuss. One good thing about Elliot staying up late was he always slept like a corpse. My chances of waking him up were next to zero, and I knew the longer I lay around, the more disgusting I would feel. At least it wasn’t like when I was a kid and would sometimes wake up covered in sweat and piss.

It was a memory I didn’t need to hold onto, and I shoved it aside as I slid out of bed. A glance at the other bunk showed Elliot wrapped in his sheet, looking like he was trying some complicated yoga pose. I couldn’t see his face, but he didn’t stir when the floorboard creaked under my feet. I watched him for a moment, wondering what it must be like to sleep so peacefully through the night. He never seemed bothered by anything, and I had to envy that.

Sighing, I went into the bathroom, closing the door quietly. Stripping off my clothes, I flipped on the water and stepped in, not bothering to wait for it to warm up. The cool water shocked my sweat-covered, heated skin, but I steadily stayed under it to let it flow over me, hoping it would wash away the mental grime and the literal.

My dreams had plagued me on and off since I was a kid. I usually knew what brought them back, and this was no different. It had been weeks since I’d got the news, but the reality that my grandmother was no longer in this world still haunted me. Some days, it was easy to forget that one of the two greatest people in the world I had ever known was no longer on this earth. My life had been changed beyond description in more ways than just a prison sentence.

There were plenty of distractions during the day, with Elliot being the most obvious. I’d never admit it to him, but his antics and constant chatter were annoying but effective distractions from the potential storm of thoughts in my head. With the addition of the much-appreciated sexual component of our ‘partnership,’ things were even more distracting.

Yet even he wasn’t enough to distract my brain when it came time to sleep. When my brain should have been at its quietest, things would come back to me, made fresh by the ‘wonderful’ power of dreams. I could always predict when the dreams would resurface, but I could never predict what they would be about. Honestly, there were so many things for my brain to haunt me with, I suppose it just picked from the rich assortment of horrors and rolled with it.

The mirror had barely begun to steam when I got out of the shower, grabbing the towel I’d used earlier. Elliot and I were a lot more liberal with our displays of nudity when we were in for the night, but we weren’t complete nudists. Even though our cabin was pretty isolated, and there had shockingly been no ‘house visits’ to see how we were doing, I didn’t think it was a good idea to risk it. Then again, if someone like Leon or Mona saw Elliot strutting about in nothing, they probably wouldn’t be surprised.

Flipping off the light, I opened the bathroom door and froze. My sheets had been torn off the bed, and fresh ones were neatly put on. Elliot was sitting on the edge of his bed, watching me through bleary eyes, and he even smiled a little.

“What…are you doing?” I asked slowly, my hand gripping the towel wrapped around my waist with unnecessary force. It wasn’t like if the thing fell that Elliot would be seeing anything he hadn’t seen before…or sucked…or had in him…or any number of other things.

“I changed your sheets and pillowcase,” he said with a heavy yawn.

“Yeah, I see that. But why?”

“Well, didn’t think you’d want to sleep in sweaty sheets.”

“I…” Okay, I didn’t actually know what to say to that. My brain was still wrapped in that weird fog that came after the nightmares. “Why did you do it?”

“Well, you were in the shower,” he said, his face breaking into a small smile that told me he was being a little shit. “You couldn’t do it from in there.”

“That’s not what I’m fucking asking,” I snapped, not wanting to play these word games with him.

“I know,” he said, his smile fading. “But it’s one less thing you have to worry about. I thought about making you coffee, but kinda figured that caffeine wouldn’t wake you up any more than you already are and probably wind you up more.”

He was right about that, but it felt weird to acknowledge that he’d put so much thought into it. Elliot was supposed to be dead asleep when I came out of the shower, allowing me to clean up after myself without anyone knowing. Now that he was clearly conscious and aware of something having happened, I felt even more naked than I already technically was.

“Thanks, I guess,” I huffed as I sat on the edge of the bed, carefully arranging the towel so it wouldn’t give him a free show. Again, it wasn’t anything he hadn’t dealt with before, but right now, it left me feeling vulnerable.

“Sure,” he said in a casual, light voice that was just too casual and light to be believable. He had clearly known I’d soiled my bed with all that sweat, which meant he was more aware of what had happened than I would have preferred. It stunk of feeling sorry for me and did nothing to improve my already sour mood.

“You didn’t need to do that.”

“Yeah, I know.”

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