Page 20 of Baby Love

“Careful,” I say, positioning him in front of me and helping him hold the toothbrush as he slowly brushes his teeth. Brow furrowed, he’s taking the task very seriously, and I want to laugh despite the late hour and his inebriated state. I help him rinse his mouth, and then lead him back to the couch. When I turn around, he’s shimmying out of his jeans. Then he slips off his sweater and climbs under the covers.

“G’night, P’Park,” he says with a yawn.

“Goodnight,” I say. I go to my room and change into my pajamas, trying not to think about his hard, compact body with light-colored skin that I know is soft as silk.

Sometime later, I don’t know how long, I wake up to a loud crack of thunder. Turning to the window, I see a violent storm is raging outside, and at the next flash of lightning, I catch sight of the wind thrashing the thin branches of the big lychee tree outside my window. Lightning illuminates the room again, and a figure standing to the side of my bed causes me to yell out in surprise and fall back on the pillows.

“It’s just me,” Spin says. Before I can ask him what’s going on, a loud crack of thunder that shakes the house sends him scrambling under the covers with me.

“Nong?” I sit up.

“I don’t like storms,” he says, voice muffled by the bedspread over his head.

I can’t help but smile.

“Stay here, then,” I say, settling back on the mattress.

“Why are you afraid of storms?” I ask after a while of listening to the storm raging outside.

Spin peers out at me from under the spread. “Who says I’m afraid of them?”

I remain quiet, waiting him out.

He sighs. “Why is anyone afraid of anything? I don’t know. I just hate them. They’re…loud. And violent. They remind me of—“ he cuts himself off, biting his lip.

“Of what?” I ask.

“Nothing.”

The loudest boom of thunder yet sends Spin scooting closer to me until he’s plastered to my body. Gingerly, I wrap my arms around him, surprised at how his heart is jackhammering against my chest. We stay that way until the worst of the storm is over, only the occasional roll of thunder rumbling in the distance.

When I pull away slightly, I find that Spin has fallen asleep, his hand lax where it’s curled on my hip. Something about the moment tugs at my heart. I let my eyes fall shut and float away to the sound of rain pattering against the window.

The smell of food cooking wakes me up, and for a minute I’m disoriented. Reaching for my phone, I squint at the numbers. Half-past six. Outside the window, rain-heavy clouds blot out the newly risen sun.

After using the bathroom, I put on my slippers and head to the kitchen to find Spin dressed and cooking at the stove.

“Good morning,” he says when he sees me. “Sit down. I’ve made breakfast.” He sets a bowl of congee with egg, ginger, and green onion in front of me. Hungry, I dig in.

“Thanks for taking care of me last night,” Spin says, joining me at the table with his bowl. “I didn’t mean to drink so much.”

“It wasn’t a problem. I just carried you in and put you on the couch. Does your head hurt? I can find something for that.”

“No, I’m okay.” Spin grimaces. “I didn’t exactly stay on the couch, did I? I’m sorry about that, too. I’m sure you didn’t plan on sharing your bed, and your sister—“

“It’s okay. I left Anya with Auntie last night. I didn’t mind you sleeping with me.” I finish my congee. “I’m going to go over and get her so we can watch that cartoon like I promised. You can just stay until we have to be at work. Unless you have something you need to do?”

“No, I’m good with staying.” He looks down at his clothes. “I hope no one notices I’m in the same clothes as I was yesterday.”

“I have a sweater that shrank in the wash. You can wear that. Or we can leave a little early and stop by your apartment to get something.”

Spin smiles. “Thanks.”

When I get back with Anya, Spin is sweeping the floor.

“Hey, you don’t have to do that,” I say.

“It’s not a problem. I’m used to tidying up.”

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